Hey there, my brilliantly bouncy borschts (say that three times fast!). Guess what day it is? Well, it’s my friend’s birthday. But MORE IMPORTANTLY, it’s th’ day that I answer some’a yer questions – startin’ with th’ ones that were submitted back in what may have been the Mesozoic era. Oops. Sorry ‘bout that. Got a lot of excitement at th’ Agency these days, what with all these other me’s wanderin’ around eatin’ alla Bob’s bagels and sayin’ how good they look in their uniforms. Also it’s Tasky’s turn ta decorate th’ office (I never said people could have turns, but apparently he’s all miffed that everybody else got ta do it an’ he hasn’t yet. Next thing I know, BOB is gonna want ta decorate. Odin help us all if that happens!) an’ he’s decided ta tear everythin’ up before he puts in whatever fancy-schmancy posh décor he’s got swimmin’ around in his Queer Eye For The Straight Guy brain (I shoulda NEVER let him watch reality TV!). So we got carpets and upended chairs and Loki knows what all around th’ place right now. MAN.

Anyway. On ta th’ questions.


drownthemoon asks:

Holy hot ham and cheese on rye! I have enough questions to number them now!

1. If you had to choose one weapon from your sexy large arsenal as your favorite, which would it be?

2. Other than the smiley faces, and the Deadpool motif, what other designs do your boxers have?

3. What is your favorite flavor of cake? Furthermore, what sort of frosting do you prefer?

4. Is a cattle prod an acceptable method of enticing someone to keep from repeating the same romantic behavior?

5. Why don't you have a harem yet?


Hot hijinks with a hausfrau! Yet another handful of numbered questions! Color me *surprised*! And psyched. And impressed with my own alliteration. Now then...

1. Ooh, this is a tough one. But I gotta say, ya know...I think it’d be the sais. I mean, sure, the katanas’re standard around here, but fer sheer looks, sais are pretty goshdarned awesome. An’ ya know, they also got three times as much pointyness per hilt. As my old friend Al would say (not the blind one, th’other one!), “ain’t that a kick in th’ pants?!” Or in this case, a poke.

P.S. Ooh, and can I choose “sais with decorative grenades on th’ handles,” or is that cheating? ‘Cause this one time, in Panama, I found these wicked sais with little grenades swingin; off th’ hilts, an’ MAN, those things were adorable. And handy. At least until I accidentally armed one while I was slashin’ some mook with it. Ouchie!

2. Ummm...ahhh...hang on a minute, k?

...

...

OK, I’m back! Had ta go hunt down Bob and the clean laundry basket (Bob’s good with th’ laundry. Almost as good as he is with th’ baking!). Lessee here, now...I gots some hearts, some clovers (Agent Casey ain’t the only one with th’ luck a’the Irish!), Daffy Duck, uhhh...what the...? ’pparently I got a pair with little recycling symbols on ‘em? Huh. I think Tasky’s tryin’ that “subliminal message” stuff on me again. He’s so prissy about stuff like garbage. Anyway. I got, hm, I got two sets with eyes on ‘em (blue AND green!) an’ a pair with cowboy hats. An’ the ones with grenades, an’ the ones with aces an’ dice, an’...man, it’s amazin’ I ever run out, isn’t it? An’ yet I always find myself havin’ ta resort ta th’ yellow panties after awhile. Funny.

3. My fav’rite flavor of cake is cake. Same goes fer th’ frostin! But, ya know, if yer question was, “if there were 100 different flavors of cake all spread out on a table in front’a you, which one would ya eat first?” then my answer would be...those big round cookie cakes you c’n get at the mall! With the icing that they put on them, whatever that stuff is. SCRUMPTIOUS.

4. If yer usin’ a cattle prod ta *entice* someone, I think yer love life’s a little on the kinky side. But if yer tryin’ ta keep them from doing somethin’ ya don’t like – cattle prods’re ok, but I say nothin’ beats a straight-up taser!

5. They’re on backorder from Russia. SOURFACE. (X^(


Next up...amejisuto wonders:

Dear Deadpool,

Any good movie or TV show reviews? What does a mercenary watch when he's not working? On the flip side, any show or any character that you hate? My friends and I have fun discussing how we'd kill off annoying characters we can't stand, have you ever done that?

Yeah, I'm twisted and evil. But a couple of these characters really annoy the hell out of me so I simply must wish that they'd be in a horrible industrial accident and get squashed by a shipping container while at the docks.

How much would something like that cost anyway? LOL

Ame


Ah, Ame, ma cherie, I’ve missed you! Wouldst thou go with me...to Detroit? No? Ah, awright, then; I’ll just answer yer questions. Ya know, I don’t know where the cool kids go fer reviews, but I hear foresthouse is maybe thinkin’ of doin’ some one’a these days. An’ I know cleolinda does some kick-ass recaps. Check ‘em out!

Around the Agency, I always gotta wrestle Tasky fer the remote (him an’ his pickin’ up new skills from TV. What’s with that? That’s not the point of TV!) but when I win, I watch...uh, pretty much everything. Does it ruin my street cred if I admit ta watchin’ Gossip Girl? ‘Cause I’m all about that evil schemin’ Blair chick. SHAZAM. But I gotta say, it’s gettin’ a little less fun an’ frisky these days. Hrmph. What else is on the clicker Mondays? Ah, gotta love House. That twisted genius. Man, he cracks me up. An’ FOX was totally S-M-R-T fer putting that show Lie to Me on next ta House – ‘cause now I gotta watch that one too. I mean, it’s got a hot redhead an’ everything! An’ then there’s Castle – true, the dialogue ain’t quite as snappy as me an’ Cable on a Saturday night, but hey, it’s Nathan Fillion. You gotta watch Nathan Fillion. If only fer the Best Firefly Shoutout Ever in the Halloween ep. Guess I’m not the only one who hangs onta old costumes fer years!

And, uh...ooh, I love me some Bones. Kinda reminds me of th’ good ol’ days when *I* was one half of a buddy movie team – ‘cept fer th’ part where me an’ Cable didn’t forensically solve crimes an’ stuff. Eh, close enough. Oh, and can’t ferget Supernatural – talk about blastin’ away and slicin’ an’ dicin’ things! Not ta mention Action Figure Castiel a few weeks ago was worth th’ price of admission. An’ then there’s Smallville—wait, am I allowed ta admit I watch Smallville? Hey, Marvel lawyers! What’s the rule on me tellin’ everyone I like a show about DC characters? Is that kosher?

...

Oh. Yeah, yeah, okay, okay. ...As a matter’a fact, Ame, I don’t watch Smallville. Nope! Never seen it, not even once. Not even the ep where the JLA walks away from a giant explosion all badass and sh*%. Which would have been totally cool ta watch, except that I never watched it!

But I *do* watch Psych. An’ it’s totally not fer Dule Hill’s cheekbones. Not at all! Just like why I watch Dexter an’ Dollhouse – it’s fer the characters!

An’ speakin’a characters, yeah, there are some I’d like ta see take a long walk off a short pier. With cement shoes. Lessee, now; if I was killin’ characters, Jenny Humphrey would have a tragic curlin’ iron accident – ya know th’ kind where yer hair accidentally goes up in flames? An’ if she wasn’t already leavin’ th’ show, Thirteen would be accidentally poisoned fer sure – I mean hey, poetic justice an’ all that, right? After all, she did kill that dude’s dog that one time. An’ I’d definitely knock off Emergency Backup Cop #2, whatever the hell his name is, on Castle. He’d have th’ most boring death possible, so they wouldn’t be able ta make an episode out of it. And...lessee...ooh yeah, whatshisface the annoying angel who keeps tryin’ ta get Dean ta be the Michael sword would get a short trip down ta The Pit. Oh, yeah.

As fer pricin’, well, if it was a character I couldn’t stand, I might could maybe consider a bit’a pro bono work, ya know?


Now then...Michelle Nieporte / Lady_Phantom asks via Twitter:

Hey, DP! I was wondering what your thoughts are on you being in the new Hulk Vs. Wolverine show?


Well, my phantasmic friend, I gotta say, not only am I super-psyched to *finally* be featured in animation as more than a second’s hallucination in ol’ Wolvie’s mind, but I’m also completely, totally, over-the-topally in love with th’ dude who did my voice-overs. Fer serious: Nolan North, I’m gonna hunt you down an’ buy you flowers an’ propose a lifelong business arrangement in which you do my voice-overs fer all my future animations (unless, a’course, *I’m* not too busy ta do ‘em). An’ then I’m gonna kidnap ya and run off ta Doctor Strange’s lair so’s he can work his crazy magic an’ send us back in time so’s you can do my voiceovers from Marvel Ultimate Alliance I, too. ‘Cause I don’t care how long I lived in San Francisco, I never sounded like a Californ-eye-aye surfer dude.

Oh, an’ as fer my actual screen time in the movie? I gotta say, animated me ROCKS. An’ should totally get a whole animated show of which he (I?) is (am? Man, this is so confusin’) th’ star.

Raise yer hand if you agree with me on this one. Yes? Good! ‘Cause at some comics convention ‘er another, the dude who worked on the Hulk DVD actually said that if enough fans wrote in ta say they wanted ta see more animated me, it might work! So why don’t ya all get out yer pencils (‘cause I know you’re kickin’ it old school) an’ write ta:

Marvel Studios
9242 Beverly Boulevard
Suite 350
Beverly Hills, CA 90210

To tell ‘em you think I should get my own animated movie!


An’ one more fer today. lady_of_mists writes:

Dear Deadpool:

A certain lovely, possibly a low level psionic being is temporarily out of work. At her previous job, she was paid a decent living wage. Now she is not making enough money to pay for Important Things in life -- like Deadpool comics, movie tickets, Wii game systems, trips to England to stalk superheroes, or even brand name cookies. Should the certain LPALLPB take a job (if offered) which would pay much less than the job that she had before, but more than unemployment -- or should she hold out for only the best of jobs as would suit her stature?

All the best! Lady_of_Mists


Well well, m’lady, we meet again. An’ as always, I got the perfect answer ta yer challengin’ question: there is nothing, nothing, NOTHING more important than bein’ able ta afford Deadpool comics. You do what you gotta do, little missy, ta get yer hands on those. Beg, borrow, steal, or take a job you ain’t too fond of, but don’t miss out on what makes life worth livin’. I mean it!

P.S. Also, eatin’, payin’ tha bills, an’ yes, Wii game systems are very, very important. So do what ya gotta do fer those, too, at least until somethin’ better comes along. Which it will. I mean, hell, I can’t even tell ya ‘bout some’a the crappy jobs *I* did while I was waiting (years. YEARS, I tell you) fer my character ta get bigger’n Ye Old Hairy Canadian Claw Master, but hey, it’s finally happened – I’ve hit the JACKPOT, baby; an’ you will too. Swear.


An’ that’s all I got time for today, folks. So until next time, keep ‘em pointy an' polished!

Holy hillbillies in a high-rise, my small but fierce crowd of fantastic fans! Have we ever been having some adventures over here! Sorry you’ve had to endure a few sad, lonely days without my wonderfully whimsical and winning quick wit, but hey, masterminding a plan to steal the most essential part of a superhero’s costume EVER takes dedicated, time-consuming hard work. Also we stopped off at Hershey Park after we finished the job. Wanna Kiss?

I know you all want to know how it went down with Captain Teeny Wings, but, y’know, I gotta be careful about sharing trade secrets here on the “blogosphere,” or one’a those two-bit, has-been wannabe other merc agencies might start trying to be as cool as us. So I’ll just give ya the short’n’sweet’n’expurgiated version of how we pulled it off:

We caught up with Cap in Las Vegas, where he was headin’ into the Bellagio; apparently this whole “losing-at-poker” thing isn’t the only gambling issue he’s got. I bet you can imagine the stir that was going on when he started playin’ blackjack, what with him still being in costume and all, and kinda on the drink, too – and then when he started losing, well, you never seen such a big crowd of feebs all standing around trying to give a man advice or stop him from going another round. We coulda just jumped him right there - I mean, between me, Orca X, Outlaw, Tasky, Bob Hail HYDRA!, Mary, and Weasel on tech, we coulda taken him out no problem – but Iron Man was real specific that we weren’t supposed to hurt him - “Don’t you dare hurt a hair on his pretty head, or I’m not paying you,” is I think how he put it – so we had to figure out how to get ‘im alone and take ‘im out gentle-like.

Once we saw the state he was in, we gave Outlaw that job. We figured what with all that long blonde hair and her, ah, enhanced assets, she could lure his drunk butt into a nice quiet corner where she could work her magic and then, y’know, emwingulate him. Sad to say, though, the Cap didn’t seem real interested in her enormous...charms. So then we gave Plan B a try. Plan B involved me, Orca, Mary, Tasky, AND Weasel, and a whole lotta complicated machinery. And possibly lubricant. Tragically, I can’t say any more than that or I’d hafta hunt ya down and kill ya, and I’m really getting kinda fond of you guys. So, y’know, “skip to the end!” We managed to extract Cap from his crowd of adoring but increasingly concerned fans without a single one seeing where he went, and hauled his staggering be-winged self off to an empty room. Bob Hail HYDRA! was all for tryin’ to reason with him (“Iron Man won the teeny wings off you fair and square, Cap!”) but that pretty much failed miserably (even drunk, that dude can really pack a punch!).

I’m not real fond of people punching my pets, so I mighta, y’know, smacked Captain Teeny Wings around a little after that, but really, the bruises’ll fade long before Iron Man sees the guy again, (considering we left ‘im tied up in a closet in his Underoos just for kicks), so I figure it’s all good. Anyways, after Cap was good’n’subdued, Tasky got out the chicken shears and we gave those wings the ol’ Snip of Doom. Then we FedExed ‘em to Iron Man in a big gold box with a shiny red bow. And that, my children, is how it’s done.

It was a good time, but now I’m glad to be back at the office, ‘cause it means that I can...answer questions! YEAH. So here...we...GO!


caia_comica asks:

Hi! I've been enjoying your blog, and I've got some questions for you.

1. I was listening to that song about Rasputin, and man, that's either a durable guy or some incompetent assassins. If they hired you, how would *you* kill the guy?

2. Why is Cable's last name Liefield-Nicieza and not Liefeld-Simonson? Did Louise disown him or something? Or is this something to do with you guys being married? Which I didn't think you *were*, but I don't know why else he'd have taken your creators' names rather than his own.



Ooh, numbered questions! Shiny!

    1. Well, my little comic, this one’s a tricky one, ‘cause there are SO MANY great ways I could kill this Rasputin dude, and it’s hard to pick just one. So I’ll pick two!

Clearly the man was all about consuming anything in sight, so I gotta say tiny grenades might be a fun way to go. This is the kinda guy who would eat grapes by the handful, I can tell, so, well...a buncha grenades work better than one, right? Just rig the stems like pins, paint ‘em kinda purple or green, offer the guy a plate, and, VIOLA! No more Rasputin! On the other hand, I woulda shot the guy just for wearing that doofy fur coat and the big fluffy hat, so another fun way to kill ‘im (well fun for me, anyway) would be to just suffocate the hell out of him with his own couture. It’d be doing everyone a favor. And, y’know, it’d make me laugh.

    2. Nah, Louise never disowned the poor fool, even though she prob’ly shoulda. I was just givin’ you the short version is all. I don’t think even Cable can remember the whole shebang without looking at his cheat sheet, and hell, it’s a good thing he can bodyslide, because they couldn’t never fit that thing on a driver’s license. Anyway, Louise is in there with all the rest, but since the man’s a bazillion years old, people tend to shorten his stupid moniker (Heh, moniker. I like that word.) every which way just so they don’t get to be his age before they’ve stopped sayin’ it.

But since you’re so keen on knowin’ the whole deal, s’far as I can remember, it’s something like this:

Nathan Simonson Christopher Zercher Gesundheit Lim Charles Harras Askani’son Romita Summers McFarlane Winters Medina Soldier X Loeb Chosen One Churchill Priscilla Brooks Dayspring Portacio Campbell Brown Mutant Messiah Malin Jesus Wannabe Johnson Geronimo Jackson Liefield-Nicieza

Except, y’know, I think I forgot about fifty names. Close enough, right?

And tell ya what, I'll make sure Louise is gettin' her proper credit in the profile, too, just for you.

...Moving right along, then!


beware_pussycat wonders:

Dear Deadpool:

I HATE everyone that I work with. How can I deal with them without going all buckets o' crazy?


Listen, pussycat (rrowr!), who says crazy’s such a bad thing, huh? I mean, I know one or two cats as is crazy, and sometimes they’re just barrels’a fun. But, hey, if that’s not your cup of tea, there are lotsa things you can do to maintain your tenuous grasp on sanity. Might I suggest pranks? Possibly ones involving duct tape (duct tape duct tape) and, y’know, sharp, pointy things? Or maybe torture, potentially via playing that one song about the horse that got lost over and over and over again until THEY are the ones that go crazy? Or hey, maybe just make ‘em look at drawings by Liefeld until they think all men were meant to look like monkeys! There’s all sorts of ways you can break down The Man, and some of them don’t even involve holding impromptu fundraisers where Renee Zellweger stands on the roof belting out the lyrics to a song by a one-hit wonder. (Although, damn, she was foxy in those little skirts.)

And if pranks aren’t your thing, I’d go with the old standby of a blowtorch and a new gig. Just leave ‘em in the dust (or, y’know, ashes) and find yourself a job where you feel more Zen. Trust me, you’ll never regret it.


Well, that’s all the answers I got time for today, ‘cause Bob’s been experimentin’ with all those different kinds of chocolate we brought back from the park, and he says his “Killer Chocolate Cake” will be ready for sampling in about two minutes. I ain’t gonna miss stealin’ a piece of that, even if he may have used rat poison in it. Oh, and speaking of Bob, poll results are in! Even though this whole “maybe guest blogger” thing was Weasel’s idea, the poor schmoe only got one measly little vote. It seems like after me (and, yeah, I still won by a landslide in the coolness department) the guy you most want to see answering your questions or blogging about our adventures is Bob, our very own little Agent of HYDRA Hail HYDRA. So keep a lookout for an entry by Bob sometime, and don’t worry: if this cake kills him, we got Tasky on the line to take his place.

Ooh! The oven just dinged. Gotta run. So until next time, keep ‘em fueled and firey!

Jumpin’ Jack on a beanstalk, my magnificent little matzos! It’s been so busy around here I haven’t had a minute of me-time, but I’ve been waitin’ and waitin’ to tell you the news, and I just can’t wait any more!

So remember how we got hired by Iron Man a few days ago to go “liberate” the forfeit Captain America lost to Iron Man at poker? Well I thought fer sure it was gonna be his shield – I mean, everyone loves that thing, right? Who wouldn’t want to have Cap’s shield? But I was so far wrong on this one. It’s not the shield we gotta get – it’s the teeny wings! THE TEENY WINGS. You know what I’m talking about, right? The teeny, useless little wings Cap sports on his mask like weird little antennae? Oh, man, when I read the fax from Iron Man, I couldn’t get off the floor for about an hour, I was laughing so hard. Sandi was havin’ a hard time, too. We can’t even look at each other right now, ‘cause every time we do, one of us says, ‘Teeny wings!’ and off we go again.

Anyway, that Iron Man is one twisted *&%@&!^#4$#%! You gotta admire a man who would go after Cap’s teeny wings. I wonder what Iron Man’s forfeit woulda been.

Since this it CAPTAIN AMERICA we’re talkin’ about, and the teeny wings aren’t as easy to nab as the shield (I mean, he throws that shield around all the time, but I’ve never seen him throw the teeny wings), we decided to call in Tasky, too. Well, that and Sandi’s a little worried ‘cause he tried to drink the oven cleaner yesterday after he ran out of booze. Little skelly-dude is a mess. So she thinks maybe this’ll get ‘im back to normal. Well, normal for him, anyway. Even if it works I’m not sure we’ll be able to tell the difference.

Speakin’ a’folks at the Agency, Agent X has finally gotten his Bloat down to “normal” levels. We put ‘im on a No Twinkie diet yesterday to try to help him even more, but so far, even with the electrodes we hooked up as a deterrent to Snacking, the score’s at Twinkies, 82; Agent X, 0. I dunno if we’re ever gonna get him the way he used to be again. Which is good for me, ‘cause then I can keep gettin’ all the work!

...Oh, and I almost forgot. Weasel said don’t tell, but he’s got a little crush on one a’you readers. Chyah, like he really thought I wouldn’t tell.

Weasel also had a kinda fun idea, though. He thought maybe, y’know, now and then, one of the other Agency mooks should answer some questions. Apparently all the famous people have “guest bloggers,” he says. I think it’s just ‘cause he’s getting bored with his Wii and wants to interact with possibly hot babes over the wires, but hey, I’m willing to give it a try. Sandi showed me how to do this nifty “poll” thing, so I’m gonna try it out:


Poll #1224775 Guest Bloggin'!
Open to: All, detailed results viewable to: All, participants: 24

Who should come answer questions for a day on this here journal?

View Answers

Orca X
2 (8.3%)

Sandi
0 (0.0%)

Bob, Agent of HYDRA (Hail HYDRA!)
10 (41.7%)

Outlaw
1 (4.2%)

Weasel
1 (4.2%)

Tasky
7 (29.2%)

Mary Zero (who?)
0 (0.0%)

Thor
2 (8.3%)

Irene Merryweather
0 (0.0%)

Iron Man (Just kidding!)
0 (0.0%)

Cap's Teeny Wings! (eeeeeheeheeheehee)
4 (16.7%)

No one, ‘Pool. No one is as cool as you!
9 (37.5%)

And now, while Orca X is polishin’ up the guns and polishin’ off the puddin’, I’ll answer some questions:

First up, daughterofisis asks:


Good day, Sr. 'Pool,

1. Were you born snarky, or did you have to work at it? Or, to put in another way...have you always been an asshole, darling?
2. Have you ever worn women's underwear, and if so, what kind and do you have any pictures?
3. What is your favourite vivverid?
4. Should my girlfriend pierce her tongue?
5. In the interest of irritating you and repeating questions, how's that cock taste? And did you know someone made two Cable/Deadpool fanmixes? Heh.

Yours truly,
SCIENCE!!

P.S. I'm German, incidentally. Hopefully that'll make you less inclined to shank me.

Oh, and happy birthday and suchlike. Actually, another question's occurred to me: what flavour of cake do you enjoy? An excellent tool in personality assessment, is that.


Oh, numbered questions, my heart sings for you!! Whee!

    1. Well, kid, I gotta tell ya, I came outta my mother’s belly crackin’ wise, and I ain’t never stopped yet. Except when the writers shove me in those lame alternate worlds where I’m all boring and look even scarier than I do here. Man, I HATE THAT. But really, I can’t remember a day when I wasn’t me, so clearly I musta been me from Day One. But I don’t like t’think of myself as an asshole – if I had to pick a body part, I’d say I’m more of a dick. A private dick. A--oh, never mind.

    2. How come on Marvel Girl it’s a uniform, and on me, it’s underwear, that’s what I wanna know? I mean, hey, if I came out wearing the one-eyed angst-cushion’s stupid visor people’d just say, “Oh, look at ‘Pool. He borrowed Cyclops’ visor ‘cause he wanted to look like a tool, too!” But when it’s yellow panties, everybody gets all excited. I just don’t get it! As for pictures, well I tried to pose (those feebs got a whole wall with shots of themselves in uniform, and I figured they’d want me too, since I’m the coolest mutant of them all) but everyone seemed to be outta film. Schmoes.

    3. Is that like a Pokemon? Charmander’s THE BOMB.

    4. If you’re inta that freaky $&^!, then go for it! I tried to get a piercing once, but the damn hole kept healing up! Mutant DNA, I tell ya. It ruins all your fun.

    5. Well like I said, the chicken stew was fantastic, but we haven’t killed the cock yet. I think Bob’s kinda starting to think of it as his little pet. I can’t wait to see what happens when I wring its neck. And…uh…fanmixes? Is that like a mixer that can fan you at the same time? Hey, if it means my mask is on more merch, I’m cool with it.

As for the cake question, well I’m pretty partial to Bob’s non-lethal lemon cake, but I gotta say I like me some red velvet cake, too. Too bad Bob refuses to make it with black icing.


Whew! That was a lot of answerin’, right there. My typin’ finger might be just about worn out now. No, no, wait...ah, healing factor. Feelin’ good, feelin’ ready. On to the next letter:

chrryblssmninja wants to know:


if you could be in any classic black-and-white movie, what would it be? Doesn't even have to be in English.


Oh, I love the easy ones: Citizen Kane, baby. That CFK was one crazy dude, and I dig that. ‘Course, if I was in the movie, it wouldn’ta been called Citizen Kane anymore, it woulda been something like, Deadpool Kicks Ass, so maybe it’s a good thing I wasn’t in it – I wouldn’t want to upstage some poor actor who can’t even afford color film.


OK, one more, and then we gotta go do some more Strategic Planning around here, ‘cause Iron Man said we’re supposed to try not to hurt Cap too much when we go for the TEENY WINGS.

glitterandlube says:


Fabian did list you and Cable as one of the romances he has written.

Then some asshat claimed Nate didn't love you back.

1) What the hell is that about? Nate was the one who used the word divorce, and was practically writing you love notes, am I right?

2) How can I make my father stop stalking me? Do you have any advice?

3) How hot are you going to be kicking Skrull butt on a scale of 1-15? 27? 29? 150?


Ah, the numbered questions, like candy to my soul!

Fabian can call it whatever he wants, but I never starred in no romance novel. But to answer your questions:

    1) Well, you know how it is, some asshats are still stuck in Big Guns ‘90s, and can’t stand the idea that Cable is really a woobie schmoop. But, y’know, if they can’t wrap their heads around that one, I don’t know why they even bought the issues. I mean, here’s a guy who practically sheds a tear of w00b if he can’t save a little girl from a toothache. He’s a schmoop with a capital S. As for how the big glowy-eyed Schmoop feels about me, well, I can’t help it if everyone loves the ‘Pool-man. And I do mean everyone. I tried to let ‘im down easy over the fact that I just ain’t interested – y’know, shooting at him, trying to arrest his a$$, blowing him up with a grenade – but he just won’t give it up. Whaddaya gonna do?

    2) As my good friend Bob would say, “TAKE. HIM. OUT. Hail HYDRA!” I mean, sure, he’s your dad, but really, what’s that mean? He’s got some of the same DNA as you? Well I got some of the same DNA as Cable, and like I said, I got no problem shooting him inna face. Just DO IT.*

...Well, unless by “stalking me” you mean he asks you where you been all day when you been out on the corner with the girls smokin’ and drinkin’ and flashin’ some leg or whatever. In that case, I think he might be justified. Even if you’re fifty. That’s just something dads are allowed to do. Forever.

    3) Like the Black Box once said, I’m off the CHARTS, baby. Those Skrulls won’t know what hit ‘em. Unless Danny-boy wusses out on the writing, but you can’t blame me if that happens.


Oh, looks like the big meetin’ is about to start, so I gotta go. Wish me luck on the mission, and until next time, keep ‘em jacked and packed!


* Our lawyer (Outlaw, via mail-away law school degree) has informed me that encouraging non-super-powered beings to violence and murder is Probably Not a Good Idea, so I have to put in this little disclaimer that says, “Don’t really shoot him.” But, y’know, I don’t mean it.