||[Mar. 28th, 2007|07:55 pm]
Cable x Deadpool
You ever find yourself writing the opening paragraphs to a 'fic only to discover, three hours later, that it's totally run away with you and now it doesn't really fit with the rest of the 'fic anymore? And the end result isn't very good, but you're going to post it anyway 'cause you need to get it out of your system?
...Yeah, I never had that problem.
Title: A Goat and a Countryman
Characters: Wade Wilson, Alex Hayden.
Rating: That thing where you say 'fuck' in there somewhere but not much else.
Series: Technically a prequel to something I've almost but not quite finished writing yet. But don't think too much of it.
It was a very big wall they were sitting on.
"Hayden, you might wanna stop throwin' 'em back. I think you're starting to frighten small children and botox-faced supermodels."
"And you're so fat the only thing that can hold your ginormous keister is what we're sitting on."
"Are we gonna talk business now or what?"
"You still doing the underpants Charleston with Sandi?"
"Nah. You still doing the sixty-nine foxtrot with Priscilla?"
"I dunno, Hayden, have you stopped hitting your wife?"
"Bite me, Wilson. I guess that's a no."
"I don't even have a wife."
"And I dunno the foxtrot. Makes us even."
"So what happened? Not that I give a fig. Technically speaking. What's a fig, anyway? I always wondered about that. Is it actually something you can--"
"Oh. I beat him up the other day."
"I know, Wilson. So you and Cable -- did Spot show up and wave her mammaries in his face or something? Give him temporary amnesia? That shit sucks."
"I ain't talking about this."
"Why not? I'm the only one you can talk to about it."
"Oh, and how's that?"
"'Cause I don't give a Malteser if you live or die and that evens the playing ground."
"There ain't nothing to talk about. Go bug Britney."
"So whacha gonna do now? Get back with whatshermalfunction, Crazy Inez?"
"If you keep this up, I'm gonna shoot you in the face, Wilson."
"Why don't you?"
"'Cause it's hard to talk to someone who's got a hole in the head. Believe me, I tried."
"So why you pick me?"
"You don't give a fig."
"Huh. Never thought I'd be the only one in a conversation making sense. Nice. Someone shoot me."
"I'd love to, but I emptied my clip shooting at you earlier."
"You vomit those up yet? Maybe they're salvageable. Working on a budget, these days."
"Back off. Any lead goes in me, I keep it, polish it, call it Sally. 'Sally,' I said, 'my darling--'"
"I dunno why I offered you the Agency in the first case. Probably forgot you're a brain dead bread-buttering buttmunch for a minute."
"Well, you're a fat life-stealing twinkie hogger."
"Appletini-drinking gutless boyband whore!"
"SEVENTH HEAVEN-WORSHIPPING RISOTTO-EATING GOLF JUNKIE!"
"DUMB DUCK-SWALLOWING CERTIFIED BRAINLESS KYLIE-LOVING CLOSET CASE!"
"Hey! I am not a closet case!"
"Really? Did you and Priscilla have a ball at the Meta Moron Pride Parade this year?"
"I am all about the chicks! You got my memories, you know that!"
"Uhn-uh. Admit it, Wilson, you're a Hugh Jackman-lovin', fu--"
"...grgrglloooohohoOW! FUCK! Wilson! YOU SHOT ME IN THE THROAT! You have any idea how long that takes to regrow?!"
"Yeah. Not long enough when you need it to be, too long when you want to tell a guy about your My Little Pony collection. Man, I could tell you stories. Now will you stop making like a Gilmore Girl and get to business?"
"The older one's hot. Not that you care, obviously."
"Hayden, this is not my day, so put a sock in it or I'm gonna keep pulling this trigger till you look like Edward James Olmos."
"Wilson, in the Frankensteinian nightmare of my spawning, I got the taste in music of a dead guy, the bitch boy attitude of another dead guy, your sense of humor, and now I can't seem to sit down anywhere without something caving in two. How the hell d'you think I feel?"
"Whine, whine, whine, whine. You know, you're so close to 'MY PARENTS ARE DEAD' you might as well start looking into leather fetish wear."
"I don't actually have any parents."
"Hey, if half a mom and half a dad makes a kid, then if a third of a guy and a third of another guy and a third of yet another guy--"
"Fine. Two thirds of my folks are dead, and the other third is you, so I'm gonna stick with the 'I have no parents' thing, if that's okay by you, Wilson."
"You can call me daddy."
"I'll spank you."
"If I could find your butt under all of that blubber."
"Right. Business. You, me, the babes, Agency X..."
"Y'know, word on the merc grapevine is Providence is a smouldering crapheap right now."
"And I've got a bunch of English castles to sell you. Like Priscilla an' Petey would let their little love nest get shot to crap."
"I'm serious. The place looks like it got sat on by Jack Black or something."
"This is just a tribuuuuuuute..."
"Whatever. Anyway, not that I care, but if you wanna go see if your big hunka--"
"For the last time, I don't swing that way, Hayden. So you better put it outta your mind, young nasty man."
"Wilson, I've seen your wiener, twice, so trust me, if I could I would. Quite frankly I'm kinda proud I didn't put a bullet in your brain already for that particular bit of major brain-scarrage."
"...Of course I'm not gonna show up, what do I care?"
"I might wanna gloat over it for a bit, though."
"Nothing better than a good gloating in the morning, 'specially if there's burnt-up Jesuswannabe involved. Gloating. Gloat. Goat. I like goats. I like the idea of goats. I like the sound of goats. I think my first order as leader of Agency X is to bring in more goats."
"Do you even listen to yourself talk, Wilson?"
"Nah, that's why my phone bill is so high. I keep calling my ther-"
"Whatever. I don't care. Why are you still here?"
"Gloating takes time. I gotta put some thought into it. I don't wanna be caught in a half-hearted gloat, I've got a reputation to-- well, not really a reputation, more kind of a mild, uh. Like that kid on TV with the spoons."
"You know, with the-- juggling and the nose thing. He hit a clown, once. I laughed."
"I hate clowns."
"Me, too. It's all the spreading of sweetness and li--"
"But not as much as I hate you, Wilson."
"Yeah, well, same backatcha, Hayden."
"So. The Black Swan."
"He was a putz, wasn't he?"
"Yeah. You know, I don't feel much like talking anymore."
"Well. There's something you don't hear every day."
Much to the bemusement of their friends, the Chinese and the Mongolians, and to the complete apathy of a passing flock of goats, they sat quietly on the Great Wall for the rest of the evening. Right up until it collapsed and they got chased down the fields by a couple of very angry Chinese people and the whole thing ended in a strangely serendipitous stampede, but that's really not particularly relevant to this story, except for the bit where Deadpool named the goat he stole 'Barney Priscilla Golgotha Murgatroid Gesundheit Wilson', afterwards.