Doctor

"How 'bout you, Doc?"

"I beg your pardon?"

"You're the head muckety-muck here, right? Which means you're not averse to a little blood. Besides, who better to initiate me into homicide than the one whose making me do it?"

Men have a weakness, no matter how much posturing they do. In fact, the more posturing they do, the more susceptible they are to it. Which is, if someone says they're good at something, they cannot contradict them in front of co-workers, even if they think of them as lower than the Juicy Fruit on their shoe. It undermines them and makes them question themselves, which no man likes to do.

"Very well, agent Deadpool. Despite your misuse of 'whose', I will be your backup. However, I am going only as a witness. You will still be taking lives today." You have no idea, dr. Creepy. "However, I dislike teleporting. We will be taking the car. The one you should be most familiar with. But first, there is something we must attend to. You may have noticed that none of my agents wear what would be called casual clothing."

'Twas true! The girls were in skin-tight spandex (and, may I say, WOW!!!) and the guys were in various zoot suits themselves. The Blob's was a lot like Siryn's, which made me retch. Normally, I love a big pair of boobs, but...

"You too shall wear a uniform. You will find it in the closet by the door. Wear it. Now, I must take my leave of you to prepare for the trip." He walked out the door.

"Little privacy, here? Except you, girls. Wanna help me shed my civvies?" They didn't. On his way out Wolverine said something like 'if you kill The Doctor, bub, we'll all come after ya, bub, and ya won't be Deadpool no more, bub, you'll just be dead, bub'. I gave him a 'pshaw' and a little speech about how I would never do something so dreadful. Acting, a little trick I picked up from working ugly girls with low self-esteem.

Down in the 'Rection X Garage (TM?), doctor was standing by that same damn limo looking at me in my new duds. They weren't as gay as I thought they'd be, to be honest. Mostly black, which is SO my color, with red eye-oval thingies. And it came standard with two katanas, two MP5s, various grenades and some C4. Thanks, Santy Claus!

No Swiss Army knife, though. Lousy cheapskate.

"The car's a lot roomier without goons," I remarked when we'd started driving.

"We will not need them for this."

"Thanks for the vote of confidence. By the way, what'd you have to do to get ready? If you brought your Fleetwod Mac tapes, I'll quit the organization! A ha ha ha ha ha. See, it's funny because you stole my free will and stuff."

"I thought I had gotten rid of your smart mouth, mr. Wilson," he said a bit sharply, which really hurt my feelings. I thought my wit was endearing.

"Yeah well, I thought you were a woman when you **** me. We all make mistakes, don't we?"

"No, you make them, mr. Wilson. I have simply learned you are not as ready for graduation as I had thought. But, if you manage to do this job to my satisfaction, perhaps I will only re-train you until done instead of until I no longer enjoy watching it." You dirty so-and-so...!

One long silence and one long stewing over what the other douchebag said later, we were in a bus depot, sitting on a bench.

"When the target come off the bus, kill him. Do you remember who the target is," asked Dr. Claw.

"Yes." I remembered who I was gonna kill, alright.

"Good. It will be arriving shortly. Have you any other questions?"

"Yeah. Do you think everyone is gawking at me because of my costume or my arsenal?"

"I wouldn't know."

"Course you wouldn't. Only my arms-dealer knows for sure."

"I am your arms-dealer."

"Its...aw, forget it."

A bus pulled into the terminal and doc nudges me. This is it, I guess. The real beginning of my new life...