Meet the Beatles, I mean agents!

The sun probably rose. I wouldn't know, I haven't seen it in a long, long time, but somehow, the part of me that still gave a good Godspam about time knew. Which meant today was the day I'd been waiting for. Sure enough, the doctor came in, grinning like a father watching his boy graduate beauty school.

"So, Mr. Wilson, today is the day you've been waiting for, eh?" I was too eager to say anything. I was worried some trace of my blood anticipation would come out. "Tell me, what is your purpose in your new life?"

"To always serve The Doctor. To turn down no job if it will earn money, power or happiness for The Doctor. To do whatever is necessary to ensure the victory over all enemies of The Doctor, even surrender my own life," I recited with more conviction than I had had for the pledge of allegiance. I'd like to thank the Academy.

"Excellent, mr. Wilson. Now for your final test." The dork-tor pressed a button and my restraints came off and I fell down go boom. Gimme a break, I hadn't stood up in months! I got up and found him offering me a sword. "Take it."

Seriously!?

I grabbed the sword and was just about to start the journey of ten thousand cuts when I stopped. Something told me to wait for it, not to take **** just yet. Why not? Aw, Carrot Top on a crutch, it must have been the brainwashing! Some of it must have taken hold, Gob-stoppit! So, instead of Doc-kebabs, I got to my feet.

"Unsheathe the sword." I did. It would be so easy! "Cut my arm." I raised the sword but couldn't bring it down. It WAS the programming. This son of a bichon-frise got in my mind and put a leash on it! I lowered the sword. "What's wrong? I told you to cut me."

"I can't. I can't hurt you, even if you order me to." GOD, that felt bad to say! He just started laughing.

"With that, consider yourself a full-fledged member of 'Rection X! Welcome to our organization, agent....Deadpool." Did he just name me after a Dirty Harry movie? "Come. We'll meet your colleagues." That dirty razzum-fraggin' doctor put an arm around me and led me up a flight of stairs into a large office. The decor was very Hugh Heffner meets Hannibal Lecter. Among the desks and chairs and very original bearskin rugs were four equally lifeless people and two I'd have enjoyed getting to know very much.

((Note to readers: I know Siryn wasn't in Weapon X. Try not to send too many angry e-mails.))

He gave me a grandiose intro for each, so I'll summarize.

The four I couldn't have cared less about were called, in order of downright snuggliness, The Blob (who my money and any woman who drove down his streets said was not a popular gigolo, if he was one), Sabertooth (he was what you'd call a 'bear-type'), Sauron who, despite being a dinosaur was unable to keep my attention and Wolverine, a sawed-off little pipsqueak who looked constipated and in **** need of a barber. Not only were they named after things Doc Hammer had apparently closed his eyes and flipped to in a dictionary, they also had POWERSSS, OOOOO!!! I know you can't see it, but just imagine me wiggling my fingers all ghostly-like. Fatboy was impenetrable, the bear and Ex-Lax could heal themselves up real pretty and the not-so jolly green giant was...well a friggin' dinosaur or something. Oh and he ate energy or feces or something, I wasn't really listening.

My attention was on the two fairer members standing off to the side. One was called Copycat. She was sort of like what a Playboy Bunny must have looked like if Smurfs published the hallowed jack rag. Blueish-white skin and a body that I'd have given up both Olsen twins for (Well, maybe not Ashley...). The Bear kept leering at her and sniffing. Even I thought that was piggish behavior. Unless she was into it, then I'd be investing in some Breathe-Right strips.

The other looked perfectly normal, aside from her otherworldly hotness. LOOOOONG red hair and green eye combo that screamed "I AM IRISH!!!" and curves that screamed "OUT OF YOUR LEAGUE!!!". This one, the crock-tor called Siren.

"Siryn," she corrected. "With a Y."

She supposedly screamed real loud. I bet she does.

The schlock-tor introduced me to them.

"This is your new colleague, agent Deadpool. Like Wolverine and Sabertooth, I have granted him the ability to heal all wounds that are not instantly fatal in moments. Treat him well unless I give an order to do otherwise." He left the room and I gave my new playmates another look-see, particularly the two girlies. Siryn didn't like it, which made me remember, oh yeah, I'm a freak now. Copycat seemed to think I was downright smurfy, though.

"So," I said to the group of happy-time friends. "By show of hands, who here likes being an agent of 'Rection X?" The dino, Bobalatty and the girls raised their hands and C.C. looked around. The room probably was wired, and everyone was at least smart enough to play their part. "Uh-oh, sideburns and shaggy didn't raise their hands! You're gonna get deten-tioooon!" Shorty came over to me with a walk that told me he had been free of the table for a while.

"Look, bub. We ain't yer friends and we don't wanna be! Can the jokes and keep yer mind on yer business, you read me?"

I squinted my eyes. "Hmm...just barely. There's a little label in the part of your hair. Huh, I didn't know Baby Gap made gigolos!" One of the girls giggled and judging from the lack of accent, it was Copy-Kitty. Mr. Social growled and Blob caught him in the middle of a jump.

"Watch yer butt, lumpy! Healin' ain't the only thing I got!"

"From the smell coming outta your maw there, that other thing you got must be an appetite for used diapers. Seriously, I know you're busy with the midget-fetishists, but in between tricks, grab some Tic-Tacs!"

"Whattaya mean, 'tricks'? I ain't no whore!"

"You're not?"

"No," interjected Blimpy. "In fact, we used to be in a variety of professions. I myself worked at Sea World. As a trainer," he added in response to my stifled laughter. "Sauron was a doctor. The rest of us are...less eager to go into it."

"Because," Wolverine said. "We ain't friends."

"And we never will be with that attitude. Has he ever smiled," I asked Copycat.

"Not that I've seen." That voice was smooth as...well, me. And that is saaaa-mooooth!!