You Have the Costume, but Do You Have the Chimichanga?

by Flint Sparks

Rating: teen
Tags: Random, Discord, Crossover, Human, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, Dark, Comedy, Other, Adventure, Pinkie Pie, Sex
Length: 12644

A human cosplays as Deadpool, gains his powers, and finds his way to Equestria... only for the real Deadpool to find out, discover that's completely stupid, and decide to kill him.

My name is Kyle Stevenson, and I cosplayed as Deadpool for a convention. Little did I know that not only would I find myself in the magical world of Equestria, but I would gain the powers of Deadpool himse—

Wow, would you get a look at this asshole? He thinks he's the shit just because he has some silly widdle healing factor THAT'S NOWHERE NEAR AWESOME AS MINE!

You know, I'm sure he has a life and certainly means well. Perhaps he'll use his powers for good?

Oh! Oh! We're going to kill him for pissing us off, aren't we?

We wouldn't have it any either way.

Boys, I think it's time to lock and load... and show this faker the REAL meaning of chimichangas!

That doesn't make any sense...

Does anything?

Absolutely not!

Note: This story stars ME, the REAL Deadpool! Not some cosplaying fake!

This wonderful story was....

Written by Flint Sparks Deadpool.

Especially helped by D-Lamb
Deadpool
Mr101
Deadpool
IceboxFroggie
Deadpool
Chrystalis McCloud
Yellow Box
Everyone's favorite sponge: RainbowBob!
White Box
ThatOneWriter

Published 2014-05-13 03:40:04 UTC
Last updated 2014-05-13 03:40:04 UTC

My fourth wall sense is tingling!

“HOLD IT RIGHT THERE!” Rarity screamed just before Spiderman covered my face in his sticky white fluid and I penetrated him with my large sword. “There shall be no fights in my humble abode! Take it outside!”

“Yes, Rarity,” we mumbled as we sulked and dragged our feet out the door.

“I suppose we have to take it somewhere that won’t hurt innocents?” Spiderman asked as we walked down some yellow brick road. “Like, with great power comes responsibility.”

I raised an eyebrow, which didn’t really do much for my expression considering I wear a mask and everything. “I take it you aren’t the real Spiderman, are you?”

“Nope! I just cosplayed at this one convention and then… well, you know the rest, considering how you crashed the convention just before. Sorry about Kyle, man, that was rough.” The “Spiderman” shrugged as we continued our walk through a town of horses staring at us like we were weird or something. You’d think they’d be used to giant monkeys after all the shit they’ve been through.

You know, this is an excellent time for a little exposition.

I agree completely.

I remember like it was yesterday… you see, a bunch of these comic book nerds came together for a convention. And, like, through ~~some lame deus ex machina~~ the magic of friendship, they somehow gained the powers of their costume. Don’t get me wrong, it’s complete bullshit. How the hell do some nerds get superpowers when they hang out with each other because they don’t have any friends?

Maybe they got bit by radioactive hobos?

So yeah. Then these nerds decided to get all high and mighty and started posing as actual superheroes! Er, well, supers. Some dressed as villains… just imagine the Joker working as a dentist.

Wrong franchise.

Hue hue, giggle gas!

Anyway, blah blah about ten issues of convoluted plot lines later, they had another convention where they combined their powers or something to create a portal to another universe. You see, I had actually been there, tracking down some cosplaying Deadpool pretending to be me. That’s a major no-no, considering how he isn’t nearly as sexy as I am!

Nobody pretends to be us!

Good thing we took up art! We keep running out of red paint!

Blah blah blah more exposition! Fake Deadpool kicked my ass back at the convention and threw me onto some unicorn statue, leaving me to die. Which I can’t, dumbass.

But he can!

Probably. Nevertheless, we intend to return the favor. Painfully.

“Wait, why are we going to fight again?” Spiderman asked as we found ourselves in the middle of the empty marketplace, full of plenty of debris to toss around as we throttle each other. In response, I scratched my head.

In response. In response. Excellent writing style, author.

That was sarcasm!

“Er…” I wracked my brains for this one. On one hand, I hate cosplayers. On the other, this guy wasn’t being a complete dickhead.

Oh great, we’re finally developing a conscience.

“I, uh, have to kill all the cosplayers as dictated by the story’s plot, until the final boss fight where I save the day with a poorly set-up deus ex machina?” I scratched my head. “Nothin’ personal, mate. I’m just the merc with a mouth!”

Spiderman nodded. “I take it the snark is a given?”

“Oh baby, you know it.”

Are we starting to develope… emotions?

Ew! Sensitivity! KILL IT WITH GUNS!

Yeah! Like every other male, I’m afraid of emotions and what I’m afraid of, I lash out with guns!

Emotions are for wome—

Hey now, let’s not go there. Deadpool is for equality! I’ll shoot and stab anyone! Speaking of which, I leave my swords and pull out my dual pistols, then aimed at Spiderman….

Because shooting him always works.

“Hey! How’s the fight going? Are you winning? Huh? Huh?” came the pinkalicious voice emanating from my belt. I look down at one of my open… pocket thingies only to find that pink horse’s head poking out.

“Yeah, I was about to turn that guy into swiss cheese!” I grinned at the horse as I outstretched my arm. I returned my gaze to….

Where did he go?

The comics lied to us!

Just as I turned around, my Deadpool senses tingling, my vision turned red.

“Heads up!”

Ka-pow! Spiderman sling-shot and kicked my head! Ouch! What an asshole!

“Ouch! That hurt!” I whined justifiably as I clutched my head in my hands, standing up. “That’s it!” I pulled out my guns and began firing at Peter Faker with much gusto, who only retaliated with a myriad of flips and webslings. Stupid Spider Sense. Kid had enough balls to make time to flip me off. “Just for that, you can perform impossible acrobatic feats with yourself!”

Did you just say ‘go fu—’”

Very classy, Deadpool.

Spiderman shot a nearby cart with his web, heaved with his shoulders, and threw the entire thing at me! I had enough time to jump out of the way, and took the opportunity to shoot as I slid on the ground and lying on my side, like from that movie 007 or basically any secret spy agent movie with guns during that one slow scene with the pistol. It was badass, and sexy because I’m Deadpool.

Of course, he dodged each and every bullet. Asshole.

“You know, I hear Applejack’s barn could use another demolishing, if you could even hit the broad side!”

Think, Deadpool, think. Spiderman’s Spider Sense allows him to react at bullet-speed. If you can’t shoot a guy….

You can’t even slice him, I bet!

Then that means I’ll have to get in close! I leaped forward, tossed my guns to the side, and gave Spiderman a good swing with my left.

“Two lefts make a right!” he quipped as he dodged to my left, and brought his fist forward to my exposed rib, only to be countered by my own swinging back kick! Forced to use his punching arm to block, he countered with a roundhouse kick to my face! With cat-like reflexes, I spun my body and smacked his face with my elbow!

“Now that’s how you put a little elbow grease into it!”

He dropped to the ground and spun, kicking out at my legs. I jumped and flipped backward, landing in a crouch. We stood up and began running toward each other… traded blow.

Punch after punch, kick after kick. With divine reflexes and godly strength, we battered each other with a barrage of power.

“Argh! Found me some booty!” Spiderman said as he whipped around me to kick me in the hiney. I spun around and raised a fist.

“Thirsty? Here’s some punch!” I said as I swung at his face, only for him to duck… wait, where did that purple horse come from? To avoid a civilian casualty, I jumped over the bemused horse and spun around, only for Spiderman to come swinging and drop kick me.

“Sorry, I don’t like berry punch!” he flipped over me and landed backwards onto a wall, holding onto it with his sticky fingers. He nodded at the purple horse as she trotted out of the way. “No offense.”

He leaped off the wall as I leaped into the air, and we met fist-to-fist.

Does that mean you guys were fi—

No.

“Is. It. Me.” Spiderman punched and punched at me, but I kept dodging and responding with my blows. “Or. Is. Everyone. Here.” He ducked a few times, evading my blows with due bullet-speed reflexes. “Seriously. A. Lesbian?”

“What, you against lesbians?” I snarled as I brought up a fist. “But hey, rock beats scissors!”

Spiderman had a double-take, “Wha—” allowing me to finally hit that damn fake web-slinger in the skull!

I get it!

Before I could get in another swing, Spiderfaker backflipped and webslung back into the air to return back to the safety of his brick wall.

“Oh my god,” I said as I massaged my temples. “The only thing more annoying than a healing factor is not hitting a guy! It makes it hard to kill you!”

You tell that pot, kettle!

“Oh my god!”

I looked up at Spiderman, who was now clutching his heart. It’s like he had seen something important, perhaps a ploy to distract me or something. Which would, like, never work or anything! Deadpool is the epitome of focus and efficiency! I am untrickable, undeceivable!

“OHMYGOD!” Spiderman pointed behind me, up in the air toward some house’s roof or something. “A big-breasted fangirl holding a sign with your name on it!”

Don’t fall—

“BOOBIES!” I immediately turned around for the promise of big boobies! I love boobies! Boobies boobies boobies! There, on the rooftop, was the fangirl! A girl wearing a Catholic schoolgirl outfit, bouncing up and down and jiggling her jugs up and down! Oh, and she was blonde too! And boobies! Big mounds of boobies! I began running toward her, intending to climb up that building and get a good handful of—

A sword pierced out my chest.

Oh yeah, wasn’t I fighting some dude?

I gurgled and choked—and not in the good way!— as the sword pierced my heart or something. Since it was a lethal strike, it’d take a minute to heal or whatever. I collasped on the ground and watched the feet of the fake Spiderman walk by. He reached down, unclipped my holster, and drew a pistol.

Click went the gun.

Shit.

Blam!

Oh my gosh, oh my gosh! Is Deadpool a pool… of dead? Why?!?!

Taking the mantle of first person—or would it be pony? I’m a pretty pony! I think… Rarity is a pretty pony, but I guess I’m just a party pony who laughs a lot!—, I couldn’t believe my eyes either. Mister Deadpool, one of the coolest human people monkey things from another dimension and possibly my future boyfriend because our shipping is inevitable and everything, just got killed by Spiderdork!

Oh, yeah, hi! I’m Pinkie Pie, and I’m narrating the rest of this chapter or something! You probably already know me, considering this is a fanfi—

Too meta! Tone it down, Pinkie girl!

Sorry, sorry! Anyway, where was I? Oh yeah, I’m the party pony of Ponyville! Savior of Equestria, bearing the Element of Laughter, and lover of chimichangas!

And I’m the voice inside her head! You can call me Pinkie, because I’m pink!

But I’m Pinkie…

So what? Just call me Pink, then.

Wait, do that again.

This?

Awesome! Theme music for our fight!

Wait, we’re fighting? B-but… Oh wait, it’s not Saturday. And changelings. But where did the music come from anyway?

As I climb out of Discord’s pockets—don’t ask—I chance a glance at Discord, who had just pretended to be a boobaliscious fangirl, and gave him a nod.

Time to save my future boyfriend!

So much for the Bechdel Test….

The Spidergeek watched me crawl off of future boyfriend, so I didn’t feel guilty when I grabbed his not-stolen sword and leaped at Spidernerd!

Klang! went our swords as he blocked my blow! Little did he know that Pinkamena Diane Pie took kendo lessons as a filly instead of choosing the skateboarding specialty!

Somewhere in Ponyville, a certain brown colt’s ear twitched.

Spiderhuman flipped and jumped everywhere around me, swinging at me with Deadpooley’s huge sword! Nopony but Deadpooley is allowed to pierce me with their sword, so I leaped out of the way and blocked the blows with my mister pointy sword!

He slashed, I diced! He sliced, I made rice! He got a mouthful of rice, I bucked his knee and slid under his legs like a ninja! I jumped onto his back and started tap dancing!

He tried to flip over and pin me or something, but Pinkie was too fast for him! I flipped over him and used my sword to slice at his pants, making a hole and revealing his tender white tushy! Hey! Why don’t humans have cutie marks?

Oh! Oh! It’s because they don’t have magic! Well, not all of them. But some do! Like that one Doctor Strange guy, or the Scarlet Witch! Do you think they have cutie marks? Do you think she’d show us her cutie mark?

Oh boy, lesbian fanservice! That’ll definitely make Deadpool fall in love with me!

While I was distracted by my drooling over giving my husbando lesbian fanservice, Spiderjerk shot me with his web, pinning one of my hooves to the ground! While I struggled to dodge, leap, or get out of his way, he leaped into the air into a sky kick and hit me!

Wait, what’s happening?

Time seemed to slow down as his foot made contact. A pink energy started to glow from my body, illuminating me and giving the appearance of… armor?

Armor that’s cracking!

Oh no! Not my plot armor! Spiderfaker kicked me so hard, I flew across the marketplace and landed so hard on my back against the brick wall that blood splattered out of my mouth as my plot armor completely cracked! Without the blessings of beyond the fourth wall, I could be—

Ouchey! I’m already in pain!

It hurts!

Ah!!!

More web flew the air, sticking my four legs against the wall and rendering me immobile. The cold steel of a sword pushed my chin up, forcing my eyes to the ones of the Spider mask.

“Sorry, Pinkie,” Petey Fakey said as he tilted his head, like he was actually sorrowful about killing a cute little pony in the heat of battle. “Nothing personal, but…”

He brought his arm and the sword back, preparing for the final blow. I wanted to close my eyes, I really did, but I decided to hold my chin up high with dignity. I represented Laughter, never Despair!

As I awaited oblivion, something happened. A peculiar something, a something of peculiar… peculiarness of somethings.

Half of Spiderman’s face compressed as a… fist? A fist collided with Spiderfaker’s face in slow motion, making it look super cool, as the mask and flesh underneath rippled with kinetic motion! Time sped up again, and Spiderpoop flew against the wall, revealing Deadpool behind him!

Before Spiderman could leap up, fire his webshooters, or even recover, Deadpool leaped forward and grabbed a foot. He heaved and hoed, and threw Spiderman over his head and slammed him on the ground. Then he picked up the loser, held up over his head, and brought him down onto his knee!

Crack! went Spidercreep’s spine!

Deadpool tossed him aside, unholstered his second pistol, and walked over to the groaning fake. He held the gun to the kid’s head, and growled.

“Nobody touches ponies when I’m around.”

“...” The faker tried to fire his web, only for Deadpool to stomp on the shooter.

“Nobody.”

He fired, and the fake was no more.

M-muh ovaries…

With two clean sword slices, he freed me from my sticky prison and caught me. Taking advantage of the fact that the world’s sexiest human mercenary ever was right there, I nuzzled his chest as he began to walk toward the sunset.

With his theme song playing in the background.

T-that was amazing! You saved us!

Only a day in the job, my lady.

My hero!

Today’s battle had been won, but the war had only just begun. But for now, all was well.

One pool, two pools, live pool, Deadpool!

“Thank goodness it isn’t Saturday!” Rarity said as we—meaning her, Pinkie Pie, Discord, and I because apparently the reader can’t keep up with all these blokes just showing up and stealing MY limelight!—sat around the Carousel Booty place thingamajig, waiting for her to fix up my suit. Thankfully, we had plenty of red fabric for no particular reason whatsoever.

Totally not implying we just killed a guy wearing a red suit!

Nope!

Oh baby….

Get a room, you too!

Oh my, are we experience a pointless romantic subplot in this story? It’s like a Marvel production already!

I take it that you belong to Discord, mister green voice?

Nice to make your acquaintance!

Dick.

“I’m happy to meet another harbinger of chaos, Mister Deadpool,” Discord said as he twisted his snake-like body and reached out with a claw. Being the incredibly graceful and friendly soul I was known for, I gladly shook it.

“Nice ta meet ya! Name’s Wade Wilson, Deadpool, the sexy merc with a mouth! As long as we can act crazy and I get to shoot and stab things, then you’ll be fine in my book!”

Rarity and Pinkie Pie gasped.

“Y-you just gave your secret identity away just like that?” Rarity held a hoof to her lips. “What if a supervillain attacked your loved ones? I thought you superheroes protected your private life!”

Instead of answering, I leaned back on the conveniently humanized—damn, Discord was a cool guy—couch and stretched my arms above my head and rested my head in my hands. I didn’t feel like angsting right now, and I highly doubt the author has the balls to put anything tearjerking in a story that’s slowly driving him insane.

What’s the matter, Deadpool?

I think it’s best to leave him alone, Pink.

Hey, at least we have Cable and a few other guys!

I peered at Rarity, never relaxing my posture. “You see, I’m not really a hero… I’m just a mercenary for hire. I mean, I just killed a guy because he was an annoying cosplayer. What were you thinking?”

“Oh.” Rarity returned her attention to her sewing machine as she fixed my costume. Did I mention I was topless right now?

Unf.

Rarity tapped her chin before saying, “I assumed because that cosplayer was a part of some group, the… oh yes, I recall the name! E.V.I.L.! Every Villain Likes Lemons!”

Just outside the boutique, that one Apple granny mare started chanting, “Eviiiiil! Eviiiiil!” Hoofsteps passed by her, as if some pony was in a hurry.

“Really?” Pinkie said before I could respond. “I thought it was called ‘The League of Hu—”

Pinkie! What did I say?

“Ugh, fine! You’re no fun, despite being a figurative representation of my mind!”

“Darling, what ever in the world are you talking about?” Rarity paused her sewing to stare at Pinkie Pie in concern. “You’re making a poor mare worried!” With due hesitation, she returned to her sewing with a fidget or two. “Anyway, as I was saying, the humans aren’t exactly heroes. They came here a few months ago, and started out by helping our community. Then, they begin to use their powers to prove their superiority, then came the dictatorship…”

Months? How long was I dead?!

Looks like you croaked up!

I felt a claw on my thigh. I looked up, expecting the stare of another infatuated fan of my sexiness, but Discord was staring into space. His stoic face showed nothing but a grimace.

“I…” He opened his mouth to speak, but his lips twitched. He closed it, stretched his face muscles with chaos magic or whatever I don’t have to explain this weird pony shit, and opened his mouth again. “I sense a magical disturbance in the mass times acceleration.”

Now this was interesting! “What do you mean, Discord ol’ buddy ol’ pal?”

It means he senses a magical disturbance, dumbass.

I thought Equestrians were innocent, peaceful creatures who had mouths they could kiss their mothers with?

It’s not Saturday.

That’s—Wait. Guys, be quiet. Deadpool, did you hear that?

Now that my convenient voice of exposition pointed it out, I did hear something! Something was on the roof or something! Discord and I exchanged glances and turned them to the window just as the sunlight grew dark….

We had no time to react.

Something crashed through the window. Like, incredibly cliche and all, but holy shit did that catch me off guard! In the split seconds we had, and the scene conveniently turning into slow motion for some reason to allow the author time to describe everything in incredible detail so you, the reader, would not be confused, I managed to see a strange sight. A pony landed in the middle of the room, chanced a glance at me, snatched up the two mares with incredible speed, and leaped onto the window frame.

“What are you doing? Let me go!” Rarity, ever the damsel in distress, said as she struggled in the grip of the kidnapper’s strong forelegs. Pinkie Pie tried, I don’t know, breaking the laws of physics or something, but the rule of drama kept her captive in the arms of the weirdo.

Me? Why weren’t I rescuing them? I was too busy facepalming and plotting the demise of the author. I recognized the pony, and who she was cosplaying as.

Rainbow Dash.

As.

Wolverine.

Fuck you, author. Utter sellout.

Rainbow Dash sneered at me as the dollar value of this fanfic inexplicably began to rise. As fanboys everywhere suddenly gained interest in this fic due to the author suddenly changing the cover to a picture of Wolverine, Rainbow Dash said, “Hope you like your mares like executive managers!”

“What?”

“All tied up! Hahaha!” Rainbow Dash cackled as claws extended from her hooves. She glared at me and smirked, the rule of drama preventing Discord and I from using our incredible powers that could instantly defuse the situation in an instant and prevent complaints from many a savvy reader. “Man, look at these claws! They’re so sharp and edgy… like my character!”

And then Rainbow Dash dashed away, leaping out the window into the thunderstorm I did not recall ever appearing in the first place.

“ARGH!” I tried to leap forward and draw my guns, but Discord wrapped his arms around me and held me back. “Let me go! Gotta shoot ‘em! Gotta kill! Gotta—”

“No!” Discord roared as we began to inch forward through my determination. “You mustn’t kill the author! What will happen to our fanbase if we have actual casualties beyond the fourth wall?”

“I don’t care!” I shouted back, grunting and sweating. “People do stupid things that kill them all the time, like smoking or eating at McDonalds! Well, mostly Americans. Fat Americans.”

That’s racist—Wait, nevermind! Deadpool, we have to save my/our future girlfriend(s)!

I do suppose we’d have to save the mares in distress….

I sighed and relaxed, allowing Discord relief as he released me. I massaged my muscles, my usual wit dried up as the seriousness of the situation was pressing. Don’t worry, kiddies, it’ll come back in like five minutes or something.

I shrugged and looked at Discord. “Argh! I am so pissed off right now I could shoot a sellout author, like Stephanie Meyer!”

Somewhere in Ponyville, a certain lavender unicorn—yeah, that’s right author, LUS, fuck you!—turned over in her sleep, muttering about sparkles.

“Don’t worry, my chaotic friend, we’ll have plenty of baddies to shoot soon.” Discord rested his lion paw on my shoulder and smirked at me. “But it looks like we’re in a predicament that we’ll have to work together, no?”

“Yeah, you’re right. Just let me grab my…” I turned around and reached for my katanas I had placed on the table in the middle of the room. “...You have got to be kidding me.”

Rainbow Dash, when she had captured the mares, had slashed my swords with her adamantium claws.

Dick.

I concur!

Egads, what a cheap villain!

“Easy, my friend,” Discord comforted me as steam began to rise from my zombie-like head. I swear, I was beginning to look more and more like Freddy Krueger. Good thing too, considering I was going to leave a certain pony with more than just nightmares when I get my grubby hands on her and throttle her for wrecking my favorite swords! “She’s not in her right mind.”

What?

“What do you mean?” I asked as I looked up at Discord. Usually, when someone like Cable gives me super boring information that’s important to the plot, I just get bored and shoot myself until they’re done. But for some reason, and it’s probably because the author is a hack who can’t find a way to supply this information so he has to write me out of character, I actually paid attention.

“You see, I can sense magical disturbance as I said earlier,” Discord said, like he did earlier. “And it appears that the magical malignity’s source is Rainbow Dash. She isn’t herself, she’s being controlled.”

“You don’t mean…”

“Yes.” Discord nodded.

“My god…” I said as I slowly removed my sunglasses. “You don’t mean that… the cosplaying is infecting Equestria and innocent ponies like some kind of pandemic?”

Discord nodded.

I slid my sunglasses and said, “This is almost as bad as forced romance in-universe, like making every mare a lesbian or something.”

Discord and I spent the next five minutes looking at the fourth wall.

“Anyway,” Discord said as he stepped in front of me. “My magic is inexplicably—thanks to a writing fumble and plenty of excuses—rendered useless by the overpowered Kyle Stevenson, who has been posing as you. As much as I’d like to snap my fingers and end this conflict, his healing factor somehow repels my chaotic magic and any other alteration to his person.”

“Hey!” I snapped my fingers. “That’s just kind of like how I resist psychics! Is he insane too?”

“No.” Discord frowned. “He has all your powers, and none of the weaknesses. However, there is a way I can provide assistance.” He outstretched his arms and began glowing. It grew so bright, I was forced to cover my eyes. When the light finally dimmed, I lowered my arms and opened my eyes.

Holy shit.

Is that a.…

Minigun? Hell yeah! It’s like a normal gun, but American and less mini!

“Well, what are you waiting for?” The eye on the barrel of the silver mingun opened, revealing it to be Discord shapeshifted. “We got the day to save!”

I picked up the minigun as appropriate theme music began to play.

I lifted the minigun and fired a round of magic bullets at the ceiling, my grin growing wider as the gun grew hotter.

“Minigun? Fuck yeah!”

It was easy tracking down Rainbow Dash, considering… well, she isn’t called “Inconspicuous Dash” for a reason with the rainbow trail marking her flight.

Your humor is getting a bit stale. Are you okay?

I’ve seen Discord like this a few times. It means the figurative excrement is about to go down.

Indeed. We’re going to turn things into a purgatory state of eternal punishment of bullets when we find that faker.

Don’t worry, Pink! I’m coming!

Anyway, where was I? Oh yeah, I tracked down that stupid cosplaying pony via her convenient rainbow trail. I ran across town, attracting the stares and screams of the populace—

I quickly ran to the boutique, put my shirt back on, and ran back outside.

—as I followed the rainbow trail to the edge of town, to a cottage all alone. The end of the rainbow rested at the porch of said cottage. I meandered over there, nonchalantly dragging my magical minigun on the ground to the chagrin of Discord, and shoved aside the pot of gold to look at the note on the door.

Gone on honeymoon, be back soon!

Love, FS N.

I tossed the note aside—

Litterbug!

—I pocketed the note and opened the cottage door.

Inside was what you’d expect from a home away from home, just another wooden cottage. Hell, why am I even describing it? You watch the damn show already, you already know what it looks like!

But Deadpool, you do t—

Shh! Only boobaliscious Death knows about that!

Your girl approves of your hobbies? Hot damn, she’s a keeper!

Speaking of girls, can we save my girlfriend already? I want boobies too!

Uh….

I’m going to tell him.

No, it’s too cute! Let him keep thinking about it!

Are we talking about the snowman? LET IT GO! CAN’T HOLD ME BA—

Damn it.

Uh….

It’s not Saturday, okay?

So now I was—man, transitions are easy now!—examining the stack of papers in the middle of the cottage floor. I picked it up and read the ticket number.

“Ten,” I said as I tossed the card aside to read the next. “Nine.” And the next. “Eight.”

“Seven.”

“Six.”

Wait a minute….

“Five.”

Deadpool, it’s a tra—

“Fourthreetwoone!” I ignored my common sense and looked at the last card.

Ha ha lol swag, I rekked your teleporter when you weren’t looking! ~Kyle, the REAL Deadpool YOLO #Hashtag

I clenched the note in my fist as I ignored the fact my teleporter was beeping. “I am so going to kill that poser!”

Show him no mercy.

Make it painful.

Excruciatingly so.

My teleporter beeped one last time.

Blorp!

Oh great, I was in the middle of some arena made of… crystal?

“Well well, the man of the hour appears,” a voice said as a condescending clap reverberated in the stadium. I turned around, raising my minigun. Kyle Stevenson, the faker, walked out of the shadows and giving me a golf clap. Instead of saying anything, as odd as that might sound from me, I waited for him to continue.

“I hope you don’t mind if I keep your friends ‘tied up’ in the moment, Deady ol’ Pool,” Kyle said, snapping his fingers. The lights in the crystal stadium lit up, revealing Rarity and Pinkie Pie tied up in rope against two giant wooden pools. They were conscious, but not going anywhere.

As the shadows receded, costumed nerds were revealed in waiting. A thousand cosplayers, pretending to be heroes and villains alike, awaited to challenge me. I lifted the minigun up and sneered.

Great, more pests.

Here comes the exterminator!

The climax, of the battle variety! Still fun, though.

Ah, final battles. Nothing like the rising tension of a heroic tale leading to an epic finale, filled with bullets and violence. It is the mark of a true hero, mercenary or not, that leads us to this fight. Are you prepared, Deadpool? Are you ready to show these minions the true meaning of Deadpool?

Bring. It. On.

“Heh,” Kyle “Generic Human” Stevenson snickered. He raised his hand, his fingers poised together. “Let the games… begin!” He brought his fingers together with a resounding snap!

Did I ever mention that earlier in the comics, I had super strength that everyone apparently forgot? Yeah, it was totally awesome! It comes with the total healing package! And makes shooting guns so much easier!

Yeah! Shooting guns—

IN 3D!

The moment he snapped his fingers, a Quicksilver cosplayer raced toward me, his fist in the air. I leaped high over his head and unloaded a clip on the poor guy’s back. Silver cheese for breakfast, folks!

I landed, and immediately swung the minigun and knocked some Magneto dude’s head before feeding him lead.

“Prepare to die, evildoer!” some guy roared as he charged at me. With the skull on his shirt—Oh come on! The Punisher running at me with a sword? Not this time, asshole! Using my popularity power I gained from the magic of fanfiction or whatever, I riddled the sword-wielding Punisher with good ol’ bullets!

Talk about irony!

As the horde of cosplayers charged toward me, I dug my heels into the ground and really let the minigun rip! Bullet after bullet shot, until the minigun became a blurred tornado of lead-y goodness! Because they lacked the true power of a superhero—plot armor!—they dropped like flies! The fake Brotherhood of Mutants, the fake X-Men—

It’s like Gen—

Quiet, we don’t joke about that. Ever.

Cosplayer after cosplayer fell to my amazing bullets! I fired into the horde, I trailed after flying supers and shot them out of the air, I even managed to get Toad AND Sabertooth crawling on the walls! But alas, my fun was cut short as the mob managed to catch up to me.

The minigun began to glow again, conveniently blinding the mob, until Discord became a nice broadsword! It’s like a normal sword, but broader! And it was…

Why is it covered by a censor bar?

Only for you, friend, Discord’s voice reverberated in my head. In awe, I raised the sword above my head with one hand. This wasn’t just a sword, it was my sword! And it was—

“A life-size replica!” I said with a sniff, a tear drifting down from my eye. A wave of amazement rippled through the mob of cosplayers as every female—and the occasional male of particular taste—buckled over as their ovaries exploded. My moment was soon ruined as, egads, a Thor cosplayer came swinging at me with his hammer.

And not in the fun way!

I sidestepped, ducked under his hammerswing, and pivoted my waist to swing my sword with all my might! No-Thor became no more as his head went flying!

“It’s going… going… gone! Home run!” I ran in circles, practicing my ballerina twirling as I sliced baddie after baddie! You’d think they’d block or something, but noooooo they have to rush in like a bunch of mooks! If they had kept their heads, they would’ve kept their heads!

Some Gambit jumped at me, and I gave him a clean bisection through the middle! Hope he wasn’t dating a Rogue, now that he was half the man he used to be!

Batman became Halfman, and I even turned the Riddler into Riddled-with-bullets as I pulled out my pistol! Remember kids, always bring a gun to a sword fight!

Did I say there were thousands of cosplayers? Sorry, my bad, there were like a hundred left or something! It was a bloodbath, and I forgot my rubber duckie! Oh wait, there’s one—Okay, who the hell dresses as a rubber duck? That’s almost as bad as the guy who dressed as that useless sunbutt horse I sliced in half in the time it took to finish this sentence.

I panted, my stamina becoming tested, as the last mob gathered into one convenient group for a last-chance attack. I considered going back to machine gun mode, but it was time for a plot twist.

“ENOUGH!” a roar echoed through the crystal stadium. I barely had time to look up in the sky as a fiery red ball fell through the sky and plummeted into the middle of the cosplayer crowd, instantly crushing them all in a flaming death! From the ashes and flames, a Wolverine emerged.

Rainbow “Wolverine” Dash.

She extended her claws from her forelegs, standing on two hind legs as the budget for this action scene began to rise, and snorted. “Weapon X? Bring it.”

“With pleasure!” I said as I lifted my life-size replica censor bar sword and leaped into the air.

Rainbow Dash rolled her eyes, leaped into the air past me, and cleanly sliced my sword in half. I fell over on the ground, a tiny cut on my sleeve, crying as my booboo got to me.

Our sword!

That was my di—er, my favorite sword! She is going to pay! With this pistol I’m pulling out right this second, I’m going to turn that pest into a cupcake!

Wait! You mustn’t kill a pony! She’s being mind-controlled, remember? Even if she’s always annoying like this….

He’s right, Deadpool. We have to break her mental shackles and free her! But how?

Friendship always seems to work!

Wait, I got an idea!

WHAT?!

When in doubt, use the power of boobies!

Wait a minute… because of my position, I was in between WolverDash and the two conspicuous poles in the stadium hosting the captive mares. I couldn’t save Rainbow Dash, but her friends could! But those poles were, like, super high! I can’t jump that high!

Looks like you’ll need a surface to climb on.

Perhaps a third wall to prop against it? Should be nothing for such a clever fellow who breaks the fourth.

A third wall, eh? How do I get a wall out of nowhere…?

Boobies!

Wait a minute, that’s right! My thesis paper on Death’s boobies!

The Hands-On Examination of the Boobies of Death

by Deadpool

Boobies, as every man knows, has changed and shaped the world as we know it. Boobies calm storms, empower men, and cause wars over their shapely, bouncy shape. Death, on the other hand, is usually on the receiving end of these boobalicious conflicts, despite sporting her own pair of jugs. Which begs the question: how and why does Death have such huge boobies? Death, as my skeletal and boobalicious bride, is the specimen in question and only safely observable by me, Deadpool!
Death, as we all know some time in our lives, is a personification of an inescapable—unless you’re a main character in a comic book—cosmic force that rules the universe. Death herself is depicted in many ways, as she takes a form mortals are comfortable with. For me, she’s a skeleton with huge tits! Which totally works because this cancer wrecking my body makes me look like a zombie! Some call her the reaper, the sandman, the bogeyman, and some more offensive terms like Justin Bieber (the reaper of music). Despite that background, it still doesn’t answer the question: how and why does Death have boobies?
Before we answer the question, we require some hands-on research. Death sports a c-cup, nice and supple without overbearing weight. Nice and squeezy too! It doesn’t make sense, because skeletons don’t have flesh! Death is prone to floating, and rarely walks, but she’s able to touch mortals who walk near the line between death and life, making her semi-corporal. Her boobies are real (unlike half of celebrities’ nowadays), but how?
After examining many a fangirl and super, including Rogue and Vertigo, it appears that Death’s boobies mimic the properties of a living female human. The size is consistent, the flesh is tactile and squeezable, and both mounds are even in size. Theoretically, this should be impossible for a personification of a cosmic force of death, being intangible and all. Somehow, my bride-to-be breaks the mold. Death’s boobies must have some special property in order to function, having never been alive in the first place.
The answer to Death’s boobies may not lie in normal living females, but rather alternate sources of research. Boobs come in all shapes and sizes, and occasionally as males. The most famous boobs in existence are known as “Drake” and “Josh.” These two boobs, instead of being sexy, are actually comedic in nature. Due to this special property, it allows me—Deadpool, the merc with a mouth!—special insight to the property and secrets of boobs. Certain subspecies of boobs contain special characteristics, such as musical ability and/or the ability to attract a mate that is simultaneously smarter and too hot for you. Since music and attraction are abstract, non-physical concepts, that goes to show that Death’s boobies are actually real and not a fabric of imagination.
According to Live Science “Women’s Bust Size?,” boob size has increased to 36c (Bryner, 2013). I have no idea what that means, but citing a source makes me sound more authentic and cool! People do that in research papers, right? The point is, boobies are becoming bigger. Death’s boobies aren’t too big, thankfully, but they’re quite realistic for this day and age. Trust me, I know, having squeezed dozens of boobies in my time. There is no reason for Death to use magic to disguise her breast size, having no reason to compensate to appear superior to mortals. Her jugs aren’t too big, but they have a charm that big boobies don’t have. A humble, charming modesty and serene quality to them, instead of loud and proud and in your face.
Now, before we answer the “how?” we must answer the “why?” Why does Death have boobies? You see, Death is a woman. Women typically have boobies, unless they’re ravaged by disease or other natural disasters. Which is unfortunate, but as a cancer victim with his cells healing at an accelerated rate, I can sympathize. Anyway, Death is a personation of a cosmic force, so she must assume a form that mortals—even insane ones like me—can comprehend. Here’s a little trivia: the personification of life is a guy, while death makes a girl. Which is ironic, if you think about it. But that’s why! Life represents the seed, the start of life that we live, while Death is the end. Death is a women because we return to the depths of which we came. Also, she’s much sexier as a chick anyway. Remember the old Grim Reaper? Creepy dude.
Now, to examine some theories of Death’s boobies composition. Some theorize that her boobs are actually the souls of sinners, creating a new sin in their death. This, in reality, is complete bullshit. Boobies aren’t sinners, it’s the people who abuse them who are. Good theory though, because Death does enjoy shadows and floating and collecting souls. Unlike other personifications or rulers of the great beyond, Death is classy and wears actual clothes instead of souls. Her boobies aren’t too different, and they aren’t souls. Death is a good girl.
A common complaint of my research on Death’s boobies is the fact I’m bat-shit insane and might have made this up. This is clearly offensive. I would never make up anything about boobies! I have standards, people! I neither exaggerate, nor downplay Death’s qualities in fear of other suitors getting interested. Thanos already cursed me to be immortal, so it’s not like I haven’t experienced this already. Death’s boobies are real, plain and simple.
Now, to conclude this amazing-as-hell thesis on Death’s boobies. How does Death have boobies? It’s because I, Deadpool, allowed her to have them! How does that make sense? Remember how I said she takes a form mortals are comfortable with? Her form changes with each generation, slowly molding with each and every mortal she meets. When she met me, my mind allowed her to comprehend the incomprehensible beauty that is boobies and thus allowed her to have her own. So, in other words, my thesis comes to this: I’m Deadpool, so fuck you.

Perfect! But wait, I can’t just leave Discord in pieces!

“Go on! I’ll hold her off!” Discord, now back in his normal form, rose to his feet while wearing a Deadpool™ mask. We exchanged nods, and he leaped toward WolverDash as his arms turned into balloon katanas. Me? I turned tail and ran up that wall of text!

Why do I hear the sound of lightsabers in the background?

Maybe Discord is our fa—

NO.

Jogging in my fatigued state, my muscles burning with the climb up the wall of text, I finally made it to one of the mares. Fumbling with my fingers, like with my belt buckle just before sexy times, I untied the rope and tucked Rarity under an arm. I leaped over to Pinkie Pie, and with the help of Rarity’s magic, untied Pinkie as well.

I think it would be a good time to mention that the poles are approximately three stories high. Somewhat fatal for a fall, hence why Rarity didn’t just free herself.

But cartoon animal thingies fall all the time!

Yes, but it isn’t Saturday!

Anyway, using my cat-like agility, I jump off the wall of text instead of climbing down it because I would trip and fall and possibly squash the poor pretty ponies. I land on my legs, which break but quickly heal, and set the mares down.

“Egads!” Rarity gasps as she lies on her side, panting. “I wish I could help you, Mister Deadpool, but my body will not respond! I think we’re poisoned!”

“Yeah!” Pinkie Pie wheezed as she tried to stand, but failed. “The big bad meanie poisoned us or something with some chlorine thingamajig!”

She means “chloroform.”

Wow, he IS evil!

NOBODY chloroforms my babe! We got some ass to kick! Kill him kill him kill him!

With pleasure!

Making sure the mares were safe and sound, I turned my attention to the battle behind me. Discord and Rainbow Dash were still at it, fighting balloon lightsabers versus adamantine claws. Two indestructible forces clashing. What a sight, what a battle! Now to add some lead to the equation!

Taking out one of my submachine guns, I ran forward… only for a seemingly dead cosplayer to rise from the ground!

“Halt, foul villain!” some knight with a sun on his armor yelled as he brought up his sword and shield to challenge me. “I shall aid my equine companion in battle, as a chosen undead, through jolly cooperation!”

Click!

Fortunately, in my other hand, I had taken out my pistol and placed it underneath his mask.

“Praise the gun.”

Bang!

And the random undead dude was no more. I made sure to double-tap in case he was a zombie or something. Remember kids, in case of zombie apocalypse, always do a double-tap.

Anyway, back to the fight! Raising my machine gun, I run toward Discord and WolverDash and—

A flash of red appeared in front of me, the fake Deadpool teleported to block my path. I slide to a stop as he reached for and drew his swords. Damn it, can’t I do anything without this dick messing around with me? I barely managed to duck as he swung at my head.

Well, time for some action! I raised my guns—

All I saw was a horizontal shine of steel.

OUCH!

How are we going to fap now?

That asshole cut off my hands! I couldn’t do anything but stare at my stumps as the fake Deadpool cosplayer asshole sheathed his swords like I totally wasn’t a threat or anything.

“Pfft,” Fakepool grunted as he rubbed his hands together. “I hate guns. So… uncivilized.”

He hates guns, and he’s cosplaying as me? I’m all about guns… and swords… and pretty much anything I can get my hands on. What a dick! He doesn’t even do me right! Well, neither can the author, but screw him! Speaking of that dick, Kyle “Loserpool” Stevenson stepped back to admire his handiwork.

Haha, you said ‘hand!’

“I admire your determination, Deadpool,” Poserpool said as he tilted his head and watched as Rainbow Dash finished tying Discord in a knot. I was on my knees, struggling not to lose consciousness as I bled out. WolverDash meandered by and tossed Dis-knot by my side. Just to add insult to injury, she walked over to Pinkie Pie, gave her a kick, and tossed her over to me.

“Unfortunately,” the faker said as he slid his gloves off his hands, revealing one to be made of metal. “I must dispose of you and your more meddlesome friends to enact my plan.” He turned to WolverDash at his side. “Wolverine, if you would?”

Rainbow Dash smirked as her claws extended. “With pleasure!”

Even without hands, I did my best to hold a crying Pinkie Pie with my stumps. She cried into my shoulder as the very thought of her friend killing her dared enter her mind. She sobbed and sobbed as I patted her on the back, trying to think of a plan. Discord groaned, having his hands literally tied together.

Behind RainbowRine, the fake Deadpool outstretched his arms and began to float. To add to the drama, WolverDash paused to allow the follow cutscene to take place.

DeadFake rose into the air, outstretching his arms like some evil cosplaying preacher. Weird, glow-y energy rose from the ground and began swirling around him. It was like magic or something! It swirled around him, faster and faster until it formed a hurricane of energy with electricity crackling in the glowing gas, and began funnelling into his mouth. The colorful, rainbow lights faded as he swallowed the last big of energy.

“I…” The fake Deadloser looked at his palm as he summoned a fireball. He crushed it, causing a shockwave from his hand that rattled the corpses underneath him, leaving him alone unfazed. He brought his arms down and laughed like an evil maniac, which he totally is. “I AM A GOD!”

Oh great, not another egotistical meglomaniac.

They’re a dime a dozen.

Wait, that gives me an idea… Like many evil villain-doer guy plots, he just absorbed a shit-ton of energy to become superpowerful, right?

Yeah, yeah! Keep going!

And superheroes often win by removing their power or something, right?

Oh, great idea! Let’s do it!

But the thing is, I’m not a hero!

Oh.…

Buzzkill.

But they are!

I nodded at Pinkie and Discord. I couldn’t do much else, because WolverDash would leap at me the moment I make a move for my gun or something. Thankfully, she was still dramatically approaching me at the speed of a slug thanks to some cutscene power or something.

So what’s the plan?

Well… he got power by absorbing it, right? What if… we did the same thing?

And how would that work?

Magic! I don’t have to explain shit!

That’s actually not a bad plan, my deranged friend of death. But how do you suggest such a complicated maneuver with our harbinger of doom approaching us the moment we move a muscle?

Hey author, remember the deus ex machina you promised? Time to cough it up!

“Aaaaaaaaahhh!” a voice screamed from above. WolverDash barely had time to look up as she got a faceful of falling ninja landing on top of her. Thankfully, her costume kept her from dying and shit, but that knocked her out of commission.

“Yeah! Way to go, author!” I said as I pumped my fist into the air. Did I mention they grew back? Yeah, dat healing factor. I rested one hand on Discord beside me, and the other on Pinkie Pie.

Dude, dat flank feels so nice.

Naughty, naughty boy.

“You guys ready?” I said, raising an eyebrow. Pinkie Pie, wiping tears from her eyes, grinned. Discord grunted his consent. “Oh yeah, baby. I don’t always get to be a hero, but it’s my time to shine!”

Oooh, ooh, can I say it?

Oh lord….

PLEASE?!

Fine.

Come on, ponies! It’s time to HERO UP!

And thus, here comes the transformation sequence!

My muscles contracted as I rose in the air in a fetal position. Pinkie Pie digressed into a glowing ball of energy in a shape of a balloon, whereas Discord became a single star. The balloon and star circled around me as my bones cracked and muscles stretched. I roared dramatically as the two magic floating thingies entered my body. My mask’s top exploded as a fabulous pink mane burst out, reaching down past my waist as a grey-looking tail exploded out of my butt.

I landed on the ground, feeling the power of three inside me. Reenergized, I reached into my hammerspace and pulled out not one, but two party cannons and fired out two beams of party energy to show off at the end of my transformation sequence.

That’s right, bitches! Dual-wielding party cannons!

M-my ovaries!

Now, you’re wondering what it’s like to be an amalgam of three different crazy weirdos. I’m Deadpool, Pinkie, and Discord all at once. And you know what about my insanity?

I’ve never thought clearer.

“I see you’ve attained your own power, and incapacitated my slave.” The faker floated down toward me as I sneered up at him. He crossed his arms and grimaced. “Tsk tsk, looks like I’ll actually have to break a sweat to kill you.”

He raised his arms, summoned a ball of gathering energy, and threw it down into a fucking laser beam.

I jumped like twenty feet into the air and fired my dual party cannons, only for him to cross his arms and block with a magic shield. He flew at me, grabbed my head, and tossed me across the entire stadium.

The impact barely fazed me, and I hopped off the wall just to avoid another laser. I rolled onto the ground, slid on my back just under Fakepool, and fired at him.

Caught by surprise, he roared in his frustration. He shot daggers at me with a glare—no, literal daggers of energy—forcing me to roll out of the way. He brought his hands together, summoned two chains, and whipped at me.

I tried to duck, to jump, to dodge out of the way, but the chains ripped the party cannons out of my grasp. FakePool swung his arms out, then clapped his hands together to smash my babies to smithereens.

In a split-second just to glare at each other, we leaped forward with our fists clenched. We exchanged blows mid-air. I flipped and dropkicked, he ducked and back-swing kicked my face. I spun and roundhouse kicked just in time to counter his Charlie Horse that wasn’t winning.

I managed to wrap my legs around his waist as his head tilted toward the ground and held onto his feet. Just as he realized our sudden descent, I managed to slam him headfirst into the ground and leap backwards onto my feet. Damn, I was good.

Utilizing super speed, he ran at me and swung. I spun to the side and countered with a backfist, followed with a jab, left hook, and uppercut! Blood flew out of his tearing mask as his cuts healed before my eyes.

He jabbed my stomach, elbowed my face, and kneed my groins.

Cheap!

Boo!

As I groaned, my stomach dropping a kidney stone, he put his fists together and slammed down on my head.

I lied on the ground, my entire body aching as he stood over me. My mind whirred at an accelerated pace, having three times the capacity or whatever.

”...just ‘cause he has some widdle healing factor…”

”He has all your powers, and none of the weaknesses.”

”Unf.”

”Uncouth brute! I know nothing of this ‘author’ you speak of. Untie me this instance!”

”My ovaries!”

Wait! I got it! Go back one!

”My ovar—”

No, the other one! Like, the second one.

”He has all your powers, and none of the weaknesses.”

Perfect!

You don’t mean to…?

Guys, I think it’s about time to pay your rent. You in, or are you in?

He threatened my waifu! I think it’s about time to kick some ass myself!

Count me in!

The gloves are off.

I concur.

With a groan, I slowly pick myself up onto one knee and glare at the faker in front of me.

“What now?” I said with a sneer. “You know there’s only one way to put a guy like me out of action, even if you can’t kill me.” Go for it go for it go for it.

Faker reached up for a single katana and brandished it with a wave as he walked toward me.

“Agreed.”

He raised it up, summoning his magic like I totally counted on, and brought the sword dow—

Psyche! I jump up, wrap my dragon-thingy tail around his sword, and push my own magic through the thingy!

“Wha-what are you doing?!” he screamed in pain as I forced more and more energy through our connection. Somehow, I knew this would work! I saw it in a Harry Potter movie!

More and more energy went into him, until I could barely move a muscle.

What is this? What is this noise?

Hey asshole!

Greetings.

I hope you like cupcakes!

Prepare to cry!

Who are you people?! Get out of my head!

The faker clutched his head as I watched with a grin on my beautiful face. Oh, how I wish I had a camera right now.

I believe it’s time.

Oh boy! I love standup!

Please, stop!

What do women say about Deadpool, and the builder of the Hoover Dam?

Talk about a big beaver!

T-that was horr—

So tell me what you want, what—

I hate that song!

I love you, you lo—

No! Stop!

And then he said, “Let there be light!”

“Your mother was a hamster and your father smelled of elderberries!”

Is that a sword through your pants, or are you just happy to see me?

Stop! Wait, what?

The faker barely had time to look up at me as I adjusted his sword at his groin.

“Goodbye, Kyle. Or should I say, clone of my best friend?”

I never liked clones.

With a flick of my wrist… he was no more. Or at least, half of more. Or more of half… Eh, whatever.

We are so awesome!

I know!

“Ah, what an adventure!” I sighed as I stretched back on my couch. Days later, and all was well. With the cosplayer menace destroyed thanks to me, Equestria was safe again. And, er, it totally didn’t protect my TV schedule particularly on Saturday morning or anything.

That’s not oddly specific.

Shut up! I’m trying to make out with my girlfriend!

Yeah, that’s right! I resumed my stroking of the warm pony lying in my lap as we watched the Equestria Girls sequel that fortunately didn’t suck nearly as much as the first. And they took out that loser Flush Sentinel or whatever the hell his name is.

Everyone knows Twilight is a lesbian!

The question is, for who?

Not us!

Pinkie Pie moaned as I scratched underneath her ear just the way she liked it. After a few dinners, her visits here were becoming more frequent in between my contracts. Her friends weren’t incredibly approving, but they liked me all the same.

Certainly helps that ponies don’t have standards for human appearance.

We’re all cute, you know! It’s the heart that matters!

Too bad we aren’t the good guys, but I’ll take it!

You keep telling yourself that, cutie….

Yeah, so like I said, all was well.

All...was well.

Man, I could use a pizza right now.

Author's Note

If you copy and paste the wall of text, you can actually read Deadpool's thesis on boobies. :3

I couldn't come up with a chapter title so boobies.

Hi. My name is Kyle Stevenson, twenty-one years old, and I am not your average brony. No, I’m just a poser who likes to shit on people’s images and thinks he’s the shit when he gains a healing factor because he decided to mimic the sexiest merc in existence with cosplay. Oh yeah, that’s me, Deadpool. I bet you’re wondering why I’m talking about cosplaying and Equestria, and here’s why…

Aren’t you worried about show and tell, Deadpool? The fanfiction author we hired—

Hired? You mean the one we threatened at gunpoint while showing him a picture of that pretty horse tied to a chair with blood splattered on her face? I love that guy!

...Yes, that author. Deadpool, aren’t you concerned about an infodump in the very beginning of the story? This author has much higher standards.

Standards? Standards?! We’re talking about some sack of shit who writes about lesbian horses all day! Who may or may not live in his parents’ baseme—

Oh boy! I love lesbians!

Who doesn’t?

Ugh, fine! We’ll start properly and show the story, okay? Now, where to begin…

Maybe with the fact we’re bleeding out because we’re impaled on the horn of some statue in Horse City?

...Oh shit.

Darling? Darling, you must wake up…” an incredibly sexy voice called out to me from the darkness. “As always, our time together is short…”

Oh baby, it’s Death! I wake up, sleeping on the couch from my apartment in some hallucination as those two other guys run around in tutus. I shake my head and take a good look at my smoking hot babe. Oh, Death? You don’t know her? Well, you’re going to meet her someday. She’s some anthropomorphic personification technobabble take my word for it because she’s the real Death deal shit.

Death stared down at me with her skull face, caressing my chest as I stared at hers. Good damn, did she have massive boobies. You’d think a skeleton wouldn’t be so developed, but you haven’t met my endowed girl just yet! Unless you have a healing factor like me, then you’re probably ~~that piece of shit~~ Wolverine—who will not be showing up anytime just to boost sales. What am I, some sellout?

Oh yeah, boobies. I’d spend ten paragraphs describing her boobies, but it’d be best if I abstained for now. No, that totally was not a setup for some lame deus ex machina the author is going to pull out of his fat ass in the future. And if he dares try that, I’m going to shoot his head off!

“Deadpool?” Death cooed as she knelt down, caressing my cheek.

“Babe!” I said, silently contemplating just why I had to keep thinking ‘I said’ in my head. This fanfic thing is weird! “What are you doing here? It’s nice to see you, my boobaliscious bride!”

Death chuckled, which is kinda weird if you think about it too much. “Actually, Deadpool, I came to see you for a reason. Do you remember why you bled out just now?”

I rested my hand upon Death’s, and stared into her eyes. “Some dickhead cosplayed as me at a convention, copied my powers, and threw me on some weird government statue of a unicorn thingy. I guess my healing factor hasn’t kicked in yet, eh babe?” I grunted and tried to sit up. “Well, time to kill some pu—argh, my back!”

“Tsk tsk, silly little Deadpool,” Death said as she settled me on my back before straddling me. “So eager to send me new souls, but hardly caring for his well-being. Someday, despite your healing, we will be together… forever.”

“And it’ll be the greatest time of my life… er, death.” I nodded as I lifted a gun to my head. “But babe, I think it’s time I…”

I whipped off the couch and fired to my front with Mr. Rightey.

“Kick!” I fired a shot with my other pistol behind my head.

“Some!” I crossed my arms and fired two shots to either side.

I bent over, looking through my legs, and shot underneath my— “Ass!”

I stood up and started stretching to work out the knots in my back as the bodies of four random, faceless mooks fell to the ground. They were probably clones or some other bullshit to excuse cannon fodder for me to kill, but I didn’t care enough to pay attention and find out.

Sounds more like a first level thing, before everything changes. You do realize…

“Yeah! Babe!” I jerked my head, motioning Death to float before me. “Can you do that stupid deus ex machina thingy that nearly every other widdle hooman in Equestwia does?

She nodded. “You’re going to shoot yourself, bleed out, and allow our temporary time together for me to open a portal to another world as you’re ‘dead?’”

So much for avoiding an infodump.

Shut up and let the boobies talk!

I, Deadpool the Magnificent, nodded. “Yeah, let’s do it babe.”

“Very well, I shall start with an ancient cha—”

“Yeah cool, whatever babe!”

Bang!

The gun fell to the floor and I dropped, dead. Sorta.

And then I popped through the door in my apartment, good as new! Death wasn’t in here, so I stood just in front of the closed, wooden door that I’m being oddly specific about right now to subtly clue you in that it might be somewhat important. I rubbed my chin, pondering what I could possibly do next.

Snap! I snapped my fingers—which is obvious, dumbass—and a lightbulb appeared above my head! The solution was right there… about six inches to my right. I opened the door next to the one I came in, and hopped into the swirling portal oddly shaped like my girl!

Well, that’s certainly one way to hop dimensions...

Yeah, like a bunny! Do you think there’ll be bunnies?

...ignore almost every law of physics…

I wonder if he’ll share his carrots with us! Or maybe he has a machine gun he’ll let us borrow!

...and make the author look like a shoddy piece of work who can’t even write a decent plot.

And that’s how I got to Equestria! By dying—sorta!

I rest my case.

I opened my eyes, feeling the grass underneath—

Lame!

I opened my eyes, only to find myself in the bedroom of—

Sexy, but lame!

I found myself in the mind of—

Lamer!

I found myself in the body of—

Has anyone seen its legs because that was lame!

I woke up in some forest—

LA—

Can we find something that isn’t cliche? I’m sure there has to be one dead horse that hasn’t been beat.

Fuck you guys.

I opened my eyes in the TOTALLY NOT CLICHE Everfree Forest, feel the grass underneath me, only to find myself gazing into a pair of blue eyes. A pair of blue eyes, belonging to—

“A pony?” I said. “A pink, fluffy pony?”

“Hi!” the horse that was about to introduce herself as Pinkie Pie said. “I’m Pinkie Pie!” Who are you?” She blinked at me, and smiled. She radiated… something peculiar. Maybe it was the fact that she was a talking horse, or that she was a cartoon. Reminds me of Ultimate Spiderman, and not the cool one.

I grunted as I stood up. “Er, hi. I’m… wait, are we on a children’s television?”

Pinkie Pie and I took a brief moment to glance to the side, where the invisible people were when they laughed at jokes. We waited, and waited, and waited some more just to piss you off and take up time. Eventually, we looked back at each other.

Pinkie Pie shrugged. “Nah, it’s Monday. You’re good.”

“Phew!” I wiped my forehead, then held out my sweaty hand. “Name’s Deadpool. That’s De-ad-pool, not a pool that happens to be dead. You’d be surprised how many get confused.”

Pinkie took my sweaty hand and shook.

You could at least wipe it first…

Oh, you know me, I’m always dirty.

“Oh my!” Pinkie Pie blushed as she released my hand, holding it to her chest. “I never knew a gentlepon—er, gentleman who was so fast! I mean, there was this one time I met this totally snobbish stallion that led Rarity one, but he got a face full of cake after Rarity got used as a pony shield and shook it on him as punishment!

Hm, interesting, this one likes going on tangents. I like that, I like that a lot. Wait, why is she blushing even more?

I think she might like you.

Horses, man? Are we really stooping that low?

Wow, she really likes him!

You know, I never thought about horses that way… Speaking of which, it’s totally bullshit for a human to fall in love with the first alien he sees. But considering the bullshit writer we hired, it’s going to happen anyway so might as well get it out of the way. I looked at Pinkie Pie, summoning all my testerone…

Pinkie Pie stared at me and blinked. “W-why are you touching my fur?”

I held my breathe, stood still, and tried to squeeze.

Deadpool, what did we say about personal space?

Uh, I don’t think she has….

Damn it! Ponies don’t have boobies!

No shit.

Perverts.

“So… whatcha doin’?” Pinkie Pie twisted her head a good hundred-twenty degrees and grinned at me like that one creepy cat from that trippy movie with the hippy caterpillar. I could totally do that. The neck twisting thing, I mean. Well, I could pick up a good pot of… nah, not even I advocate smoking. Remember kids, it’s okay to shoot people for hire but not to smoke!

Yeah! Real talk!

“Hee hee, you’re funny!” Pinkie Pie giggled. She opened her eyes and looked at me again. “Why don’t you follow me and I’ll take you to Ponyville?” She began to stand up. Okay, I admit it. These horses were kind of cute. Maybe I’m just a sucker for big eyes. She turned around and—

OH MY GOD.

HOLY SHIT!

Oh my.

While Pinkie Pie lacked in the boob department—oh my god. When she turned around, I got nothing but an eyeful of flank.

Baby got plot.

Moving on…

Dat ass.

We began walking toward some Ponyville place.

“So, what are you doing in Equestria, mister Deadpool?” Pinkie Pie asked as she bounced in circles around me. “Are you here to visit and hug all the pretty ponies? Going to learn about the magic of friendship? Or—” Pinkie Pie took a deep breathe “—areyougoingtochasedownacosplayerposingasyouinordertoenactyourvengeance?”

I stopped and stared down at her.

Pinkie Pie shrugged. “Lucky guess?”

“Uh…”

Dude, does she have the script too?

Looks like she actually read it too.

“So…” Pinkie Pie continued her bouncing. “Are you here to have a little fun, or find somepony to penetrate with your big sword?”

“Um… yes!”

Soon, we came to the outskirts of Ponyville.

Can our transitions get any more lame?

Come on author! Stop phoning it in! I’m trying to run a story here!

Hey, why don’t you shoot him? That always solves your problems!

Hey, you’re right! I reach down for my dual pistols, pull them out, and aim just right…

And then about fifty pony ninjas leaped out of the trees and attacked us!

Now that’s what I’m talking about!

I think it’s about time…

To kick some—

Flank!

...What?

Not having time to linger on my thoughts, except I totally do because that’s how I banter in the middle of a fight anyway, I got right to business! I reached up for my swords… only for Pinkie Pie to rest her hoof on my foot. I looked down into her sniffling, special eyes.

She does have special eyes.

For such a special pony.

MY BRAND!

“Please don’t kill ponies,” Pinkie sniffed, “Not even the faceless mooks.”

“Um…” Oh shit, I totally forgot ponies were total peace-lovers. “Can I still kill the faker?”

Pinkie Pie grimaced, then whipped out the script from hammerspace. She quickly scanned the document, pocketed it, and resumed her puppy-eyes. “O-of course! I-it’s your destiny and everything…”

“You don’t like humans, don’t you?” Except me, of course. I’m just too damn sexy.

“Pfft.” Pinkie Pie crossed her forelegs. “No hooves? Disgusting.”

“Good girl!”

Now that our discussion was over, it was time to start fighting. I drew my sword and quickly parried a blow from a ninja about to coup-da-grace….

~Unfortunately, due to budget limits, the following action scene had to be cut for—

No, bullshit! Don’t make me hold the pretty horse hostage!

~This action scene was brought to you by our sponsor, Deadpool The Magnificent. When there’s a way, there’s a chimichanga!~

Good boy.

I parried a blow from a ninja, saving Pinkie from losing her head, and roundhouse kicked him into the final chapter. I pivoted on my foot and back-kicked another ninja, knocking him against a tree. He gasped as blood flew out of his mouth, and he fainted.

Pinkie Pie got into the fight, and started doing her own acrobatics. I flipped, kicked, and non-lethally sliced and diced everywhere. One ninja managed to land a strike with his katana, slicing the middle of my suit just enough to reveal my manly abdominals of manliness. Somewhere, somewhere out there in Equestria, a mare’s ovaries exploded.

Completely ignoring how the Weapon X Program completely turned our skin into scar tissue.

Pinkie Pie twisted and flipped, firing off her party cannon—note the two n’s. Seriously, do people not know how to spell?—against ninja after ninja. Slowly, our minds and hearts began to fall in sync….

Dude, why am I thinking about Chuck Norris right now?

Probably a reference that nobody is going to understand, as usual.

You might be right, or it could be shipping!

It could be bo—

Who the hell are you?!

Pinkie Pie and I teamed up, flipping over each other and providing assists as we kicked, punched, and parried various ninja ponies. Our dodges and parries grew so intecrate, we began to tango as the last wave of ninjas attacked and failed.

Is it me, or do ninjas always suck when they fight in groups?

I believe there’s an explanation for that.

Oh! Oh! I know the answer for th—

SHUT UP PINKIE!

“Yes?” Pinkie Pie asked as we panted, our battle finished. I looked at her in shock and disbelief, but mostly shock… and a little disbelief.

“Y-you can hear me?” I asked. “You can—”

“Break the fourth wall? Yes!” Pinkie Pie grinned at me, showing off her pearly whites.

But that doesn’t explain the voice—

Um, excuse me mister, but I’m right here!

Dude, it’s a chick….

Oh my gosh, this is so exciting! I thought we were the only ones but now a fourth wall breaking awesome person from another universe with voices in his head has come and now I have a new friend to talk to in four dimensions! Oh, and share chimichangas!

I do enjoy chimichangas….

A chick….

“Oh hey, we’re right in front of Carousel Boutique!” Pinkie Pie said as we stood in front of some big building with blah blah blah description.

“Wow, that was convenient!” I said as I placed my hands on my waist. “Walking into town during our voices’ exposition sure does save time when it comes to scene transitions!”

“Preach it, player!” Pinkie Pie knocked on the boutique door, which immediately opened.

Ah, Rarity. She was an alabaster—whatever the hell that means—unicorn with a wicked hot mane, and the eyes of a model. Which made sense, considering she made clothes for models and stuff. Oh, and she was super hot. Like, she was the Emma Watson of—No, she was the Jennifer Aniston of horses. She could be forty and still be hot.

Look at that mane.

Unf.

“Well hello! Welcome to Carousel Bouti—Pinkie, who is this?” Rarity’s eyes began to twitch as she stared up at me. I met her glare, feeling the daggers digging into my eyes. Daggers my healing factor couldn’t negate. No, that was a job for my sanity.

“Well hello, horse named Rarity that I have never seen before nor hold as ransom in order to get a random fanboy in another universe to write my very own fanfiction,” I said as I smiled through my mask. “I hope you aren’t too ‘tied up’ at the moment to help me out, are you?”

Rarity gulped and broke eye contact. “Uh, of course not mister human I’ve never met before nor get kidnapped by at any time in history! Er, darlings, why don’t you come inside and I’ll—”

“Yes, Rarity, I’d love to come inside.”

Rarity looked up at me, and gulped. She stepped aside, and allowed me to walk past and come inside her… home.

“Wow, Rarity, you’re so generous!” Pinkie Pie cheered as we gathered in the main room, or whatever you call that place in a house building where it’s surrounded by at least three walls, a ceiling, and a floor of sorts. “It’s like you’re used to having costumed superheroes coming by with damaged costumes for you to sew back together!”

Yeah, that wasn’t a poorly set-up plot point foreshadowed.

“Hey Rarity, have you seen my boot anywhere?” a teenage voice riddled with justifiable angst said as someone walked out from the dressing room.

Well, that was fast.

“Oh my god, it’s you,” the costumed freak said, pointing at me with a shaking hand.

“I know what you’re thinking,” I said as I lifted my open hands above my head. “I’m not Spiderman.”

I grasped the handles of my katanas.

“And neither are you.”

Did I mention I really, really hate cosplayers?

Finally! Some real action!

I WANT TO SEE SOME BLOOD!

…I think I’m in love.