The Mostly True Adventures of Wade Wilson in Equestria

Chapter the Sixth
In which Our Hero kills a little kill, in the Prench manner of speaking

Princess Celestia and Princess Twilight Sparkle, along with her faithful scribe Spike, were all seated at the crystal dining table in the suite of common rooms that linked seven crystal bed chambers. Seven crystal seats surrounded the table.

An immaculate white unicorn, with three blue diamonds for her cutie mark, was levitating tapestry designs and fabric swatches before Twilight Sparkle as everypony finished up a casual breakfast. Her magical corona was a pale blue that stood out against her perfectly styled, violet mane. She sipped at her breakfast tea daintily as she held it in her magical field.

"The throne room is simply dazzling, of course, but it is just so austere," she spoke. "Now this design here really represents all of the princesses as well as our little group," she said as she levitated a sketch of six ponies floating in the air with colorful rays shooting from their bodies. The rays met above them and formed a brilliant rainbow heart. Half the background was a sunny sky and the other half was a clear night.

"Yes, that's fine, Rarity. It looks great," Twilight Sparkle said, bleary eyed. She slurped noisily at her still hot coffee. Princess Celestia made a quiet noise of appreciation when she saw the sketch.

"It's perfect, Rarity," Spike said as he gazed at Rarity in adoration. Nopony seemed to notice.

"Why thank you, dear," Rarity said to Twilight. "It just seems like it is missing a certain something. Oh, perhaps I can order a sample of that new fabric from Prance. It has an absolutely lovely rainbow shimmer to it that will really make the friendship rays pop!"

Celestia hummed thoughtfully as she sipped at her warm milk. Rarity levitated her reading glasses and held them up to her eyes. Spike sighed in contentment as he watched her contemplate the sketch. Twilight Sparkle continued to noisily drink her coffee.

"No, no," Rarity murmured quietly to herself. "I know something is missing, but it just isn't coming to me." She folded her glasses and tapped them thoughtfully on her chin. "I tried adding in the other princesses directly, but it just was much too cluttered. Oh, no offense meant, Princess Celestia," Rarity said, then tittered nervously as she realized her potential social gaff.

"None taken, my little pony. I fear my face adorns more than enough art as it is," Princess Celestia said kindly. After a moment of contemplation she asked, "Are there not seven Friendship Thrones, dear Rarity?"

Rarity held a hoof up to her mouth, as was proper, and gasped.

"This is the. Worst. Possible. Thing!" she said dramatically. She paused in between each word for effect and then summoned a crystal and plush fainting couch upon which she did swoon. "Oh, oh my goodness! Yes, of course! How could I possibly forget dear little Spikey-wikey!" she cried out.

Spike flushed and leapt to his feet, eager to assuage Rarity's pain.

"That's okay Rarity. I don't mind, I mean, I didn't really do anything to defeat Tirek. I just kinda stood there, is all," Spike said in an attempt to ease her distress. He knelt before her and held her forehoof in his claws. "Really, Rarity, the tapestry design is so neat. I don't want you to have to mess it up because of me," he added. Rarity covered his claws with her other hoof.

"Oh, my little Spikey-wikey is such a proper gentlecolt!" she exclaimed. "But, no! This affront to friendship cannot stand! I must correct it. At once!" she declared. She stood up and magically returned the fainting couch from whence it had come.

She quickly sorted her things into her stylish saddle bag and began to make her way out of the room. She paused and dropped an exactly correct curtsy to Princess Celestia.

"I'm so sorry to eat and run, but I must begin the redesign right away! We should breakfast again sometime soon. Without business to interrupt us, I hope," Rarity said in parting. Spike hopped up and waved to Celestia and Twilight Sparkle as he followed Rarity.

"Bye Twilight, Celestia. Don't forget to add 'Meeting With That Weird Pony' on your to do list for today!" Spike called cheerfully as he and Rarity began the walk down to her makeshift work room.

"Oh no, my schedule!" Twilight Sparkle's frustrated shout followed them down the hall.

"Oh? There was some weird pony petitioning our own Princess Twilight?" Rarity asked Spike. But before he could answer she continued on. "Applejack mentioned that there was some commotion at the castle yesterday, but Pinkie Pie said that it wasn't anything that needed all of us to take care of. I know Pinkie is, well, Pinkie, but she never plays her little pranks when something serious is ahoof," Rarity said. Spike nodded in agreement.

"Oh, yeah, Princess Celestia came and fixed everything!" Spike said enthusiastically. "Well, I mean, it turns out there wasn't really any danger in the first place. Twilight thought this pony was a zompony, he wasn't, really, but this colt looked so creepy that everyone thought he was a zompony, so it's not like it's her fault or anything," Spike added quickly.

"Oh, dear," Rarity said in concern. After a moment she added, "Well, if Twilight is meeting with him today then it can't have gone all that badly." Spike and Rarity had reached the stairs and proceeded down them, towards the parlor where some of her sewing equipment was currently stored.

"Oh, no, it was pretty bad. She totally freaked and zapped his brain with her anti-zompony spell. He really died and everything!" Spike clarified. Rarity paled.

"That was, she zapped him after the guards threw their spears. There was blood everywhere! But he was still moving around and trying to talk! It was super creepy," Spike shuddered. "Blood was everywhere! I, uh, think they're still cleaning the throne room, actually," Spike added. Rarity looked nauseous. "Though Princess Celestia cleaned up most of it already. I think the maids are kind of scared of his blood being contagious..." They had reached the hallway with her destination.

"That... that sounds simply dreadful!" Rarity exclaimed.

She paused to gather her thoughts.

"Oh, Spike, you must have been so scared!" she cried out as she pulled him close for a hug. He squeaked and blushed as she squeezed him close and rocked back and forth. "My poor widdle Spikey-wikey! To have seen such horrors at his tender age!"

"I'm not a baby anymore, Rarity! I even remembered to tell Princess Celestia when Twilight forgot to!" Spike said as he squirmed in her grasp.

Rarity swooned dramatically into the door to the parlor, and then swooned through the door as it opened unexpectedly. Startled, she and Spike swooned all the way to the ground.

"Oh!" Rarity cried out as she landed on Spike.

Spike grunted and twitched as he was squished between pony and crystal floor.

Deadpool snored loudly from his inelegant sprawl across a finely upholstered divan. He had worn his new mask to sleep. He was drooling all over it and the boxes that were cuddled up under his head. His wings were extended and locked in a most improper manner, and his hooves twitched periodically. His scarred eyelids were visible through the eyeholes of his mask.

Rarity absentmindedly helped Spike to his feet as she stood up.

"My goodness. Is this the strange pony of which you were speaking, Spikey?" Rarity asked of the little dragon.

"Uh, yeah, I guess the servants really are scared of him," Spike said in surprise. He scratched his chin and looked up. Rarity gazed at the state of her work room.

"I think he said his name was Wades Whinnyson, or something weird." Spike added as he looked at Deadpool thoughtfully. "Come to think of it, it didn't sound like a pony name at all..."

"Oh, Nightmare! What happened here?" Rarity said in surprise. Spike jumped in surprise at her uncharacteristic outburst. Upon looking about, the state of her temporary work room was a sight, indeed. Fabric bolts and scraps were messily strewn about the entire room. On her work desk there was a sloppily arranged pile of fabric that had been cut, but not stitched. Tossed on the floor was an unfortunate amount of white fabric with stitches sewn on it with varying skill. Presumably it had been used for practice.

Rarity started sorting out her work space and was alarmed to find hoof chips and tiny spots of blood among the clutter. Spike held up a scrap trimmed from a seam with silver primary feathers sewn in.

"Oh my," Rarity said as she used her magic to remove the feathers from the scrap and set them carefully on the tea table. She looked at Deadpool, really looked at him instead of the cursory glance from before. His wings were not missing any feathers and his hooves did not have any chips or cracks. Yet the feathers, and presumably the other mess, were definitely his.

His muscles and body shape were the very picture of a healthy, athletic stallion. His nearly pristine wings were in need of preening now, and his previously magnificent blonde tail was tangled and matted. His exposed neck was bald, and it was obviously not by choice. His entire body was covered in brutal scarring and the occasional melanoma, leaving his fur patchwork. He was also in desperate need of a bath.

His death's mask cutie mark had, unknown to Rarity, changed just slightly. The skull was now nestled in a blue flame. Spike squinted as he stared at Deadpool's cutie mark. He stroked an imaginary mustache as he pondered this development.

"Oh, you poor dear," Rarity said quietly as she brushed away tears of compassion with a well groomed hoof.

"Well!" she said as she returned her gaze to the fabric held up in her magic. It had been cut somewhat sloppily, but the fabric was in shapes and sizes that she could work with. There were no sketches of a completed suit, but as she moved the fabric about with her magic, she began to pin the black accents to where she felt they belonged on the red fabric. "This will have to do for now. Spike, be a dear and help me, please?"

Spike leapt to attention eagerly.

"As you wish, Rarity!" he said as he stood next to the sewing machine, cheerfully awaiting her commands.

Deadpool, in his human body and full costume, screamed fiercely as he rode a steampunk-cyborg-mastodon through a horde of inept U.L.T.I.M.A.T.U.M. minions.

"On behalf of Hydra Bob, I take offense at that. Minions can be useful, these guys are just pathetic," Deadpool said, interrupting his manly battle cries to chide the author.

"Oh, NOW you acknowledge that I'm talking to you," Deadpool said in annoyance. He crossed his arms and stopped controlling the mastodon. The faceless mooks, and the messy, flattened remains of their comrades faded into the dreamscape. The mastodon trumpeted and rumbled in confusion. Deadpool gave it an affectionate pat. "Oh not you, buddy, you're doing great. Go on and kill some cave lions or bears or men. Or whatever the hell you do in the Savage Land."

The steampunk-cyborg gears and wheels and chains and yet more gears melted away. The liquid ran down the mastodon's fur and became a river of broken machinery. The mastodon rumbled an acknowledgement to Deadpool's command and started walking towards one of the now rising moons. The dreamscape began forming the tropical clime of the Savage Land around the broken river.

"You know, I've got a bone to pick with you, author. You promised me that there would be, and I quote 'free hugs.' And yet, here I stand—" Deadpool sprung up on his feet and landed pointedly on the mastodon's head. "—blatantly un-hugged," he finished as he gestured grandly to his body completely devoid of any being hugging it.

The author acknowledges that free hugs were promised and have not yet been delivered. However, the author would like to remind Deadpool that he did have presumably enjoyable sexy fun times with the ponification of death.

"And I would like to remind you that you stabbed me with spears, turned my brain into gas, made that adorable little pony cry, and–"

The author concedes that there has been some abuse of certain characters in recent chapters.

"Some abuse?! You fucking broke my god damn dick!" he shouted in the direction of the sky.

Ponies hugging crazy strangers all willy-nilly goes against the author's standards.

Deadpool drew one of his katana and idly checked its edge against his hand. It was very sharp.

In the author's defense when else, really, is 'boner bone' a relevant phrase?

"I'm gonna ask you one last time,' he drew his other katana and casually tested its edge as well. It was also very sharp. "Where the fuck..." He sheathed his katana and drew one of his custom Desert Eagles. "...are my..." He drew back the slide and checked the barrel. "...God damn hugs?" he aimed the .44 magnum upwards at—

Uh, he aimed his custom, .44 magnum gun at...

He drew his matching Desert Eagle with his other hand and gestured for the author to continue.

Well, that is to say, Deadpool was aiming at the author.

"Well?" Deadpool growled.

Um, Deadpool growled sexily! It was an extremely sexy growl and also terrific. Very traditionally terrific. Please don't kill me.

Did the author mention that in addition to being the sexiest merc in the entire, expansive, multiverse that Deadpool was also a completely legit X-Man?

Deadpool scratched an itch with one of his guns. "I'm listening." The other gun remained aimed at the author.

Oh, yes! Totes legit!

And, also! He is an honorary Avenger! Iron man said so himself.

"Go on."

And he is part of the illustrious Thunderbolts! Which is a totally awesome group of badass em effers for those not in the know, since they don't have their own movie and all. Oh God, he's still aiming at me!

Movies! Speaking of movies, Deadpool is getting his own movie soon! Ryan Reynolds is no Robert Downey Jr. I mean, really he--

"Ahem," Deadpool coughed politely while clicking off the safety on his guns.

Is a wonderful actor that loves Deadpool a lot and as long as he keeps it a hard 'R' how could anyone complain, really? *sob*

"While all that is one hundred percent true and not fabricated in any way, obviously. You are still reneging on a deal."

The author would like to point out that the story remains incomplete and so—

Deadpool began to squeeze the trigger.

The author recalled the Deadpool Kills trilogy and the unhappy fate of Deadpool's official writing team. Fearing for her life, she concedes that promises were made and not kept. There will be ~~blood~~ hugs. There will be hugs.

Infact, there will be both blood and hugs.

"Great! Let's get this party started!" Deadpool exclaimed happily. He put away his guns and kicked his mount.

The mastodon fell over, dead from heat stroke. Since the Savage Land has a Cretaceous climate and mastodons are from the Pleistocene. Which Deadpool would know if he wasn't crazy.

Deadpool leapt gracefully from the falling pachyderm and landed in the midst of a pack of Savage Land velociraptors.

"Is there a reason we're being so specific as to their nationality?" Deadpool asked as he drew his swords.

Real velociraptors were pony sized and covered with feathers.

Deadpool shrugged.

"Eh, whaddya gonna do?" he said philosophically.

I dunno, write a fanfic about it, I guess. Now, fight!

The head velociraptor shrieked and lunged forward. Deadpool stabbed his sword through its mouth and out the back of its skull. Blood and gore splattered on the two 'raptors behind it. They screamed, enraged, and leapt at Deadpool with their arms raised and killing claws extended.

"You needed that like an extra hole in the head!"

Deadpool used his second sword to slice off the legs of the next 'raptor. Blood sprayed everywhere as it tried to kill Deadpool before it bled out. Deadpool shook his head and sighed.

"Ugh, that was terrible. I'm getting rusty."

He sliced out the side of the dying 'raptor's head with a twist. Its body fell, twitching, to the blood coated ground.

He caught the third charging 'raptor with his back stroke and took off its head.

"No need to lose your head!"

The last two 'raptors came at his back. He spun and sliced into the fourth 'raptor's chest, getting his sword stuck.

"Do you plan on sticking around?" He asked the fourth 'raptor.

He missed his stroke on the fifth 'raptor and severed an arm instead of its head.

"Don't go to pieces!" He yelled as he cut the fifth 'raptor in half on the return stroke. It snapped its mouth closed on Deadpool's shoulder even as its legs, tail, and guts continued on.

"Look, babe, I don't think this is working out."

Deadpool released his grip on the stuck sword as the fourth 'raptor tumbled past and landed, thrashing, on the blood slick ground.

"Let's agree to see other people, okay?"

He leapt up and slammed his shoulder, and consequently the fifth 'raptor's head, into the still thrashing fourth 'raptor. Either through pure luck or insane skill, he reamed the abandoned sword hilt through its eyes and skull. It released its grip on his shoulder and fell, dead.

"He's so into you!" Deadpool exclaimed.

Deadpool stood and drew a combat shotgun from his shoulder strap. He coldly executed the two still flailing and bleeding 'raptors. He had slightly miscalculated though, so when one of the 'raptors kicked out in its death spasms its sickle claw sliced open Deadpool's gut. Ropes of red and black shoestring licorice spilled out.

"I wonder what that says about me?" Deadpool wondered aloud, as he stuffed the candy back in the wound.

Deadpool shrugged and went to pull the sword out of the body of the fourth velociraptor when suddenly, all of the velociraptor bodies exploded in a shower of red and black confetti. The puddles of red remained, but they smelled of sugar and artificial cherries. The distant mastodon corpse had left enormous tusks, far more than two, jutting up from the ground.

"Well, that was weird," Deadpool said.

A massive, dapper giganotosaurus in a monocle and tophat leapt up from the dreamscape and charged at Deadpool. He readied his katanas, when suddenly, a beam of sparkling blue magical energy struck the tyrannosaurid just behind its eyes. It bellowed and collapsed, melting back into the dreamscape.

"What fun! Well met Deadpool!"

"Lulu, baby, how's it hangin'?" said Deadpool to the freshly arrived Princess Luna.

Because apparently Princess Luna and Deadpool knew each other? WTF Deadpool, how did that even happen?

"I've been to the moon before, lady. What kind of Deadpool fan are you, anyways?"

That doesn't explain anything! Also I'm not sure that statement is entirely accurate. The moon in your 'verse isn't even the same— okay, forget it, I clearly have unrealistic expectations regarding you and your ability to not be completely bonkers and do impossible things. Fine. I will lower my expectations and we'll just go with SOMEHOW a Marvel character and an IDW licensed character are friends.

"Is this not, how do you say, a 'crossover'?" asked Princess Luna.

...That is completely out of character.

"You are but an actor in Deadpool's dream, who are you to say if we are behaving true to ourselves?" Princess Luna asked the author.

What? No, no, no! I'm the author! It is you that are but–

Deadpool giggled.

Dammit, Deadpool tell her about your comics!

"Oh, the comic books!" Luna stomped her hooves a moment in delight. "There are delightful comics being published right now about Twilight, Celly, and even some with me!" Deadpool squealed and clapped.

"Look at you, getting your own issues!" Deadpool said. Princess Luna laughed happily.

"Some of the tales are quite silly, but at least the comics are generally flattering," she said. She frowned, "even though some of the comics about Nightmare Moon are rubbish, Celly is quite firm on not torturing the ponies involved. That just isn't done, these days. And even when I demand satisfaction, dueling is no longer 'in style', as they say. So it isn't a fair contest, even with handicaps," Princess Luna said as she pouted.

...What? I can't even...

OK, nope, that's it. I quit!

"Well, I'm glad we worked through that trauma so quickly! Now we can get caught up,dear friend."

"This was actually a pretty tame nightmare for me, believe it or not."

"Indeed, your tale is filled with tragedy."

"Eh, it was the 90's, everyone's story was tragic and angsty."

"Hmm."

"Oh! I've got a new text box in my head, well not really in my head right now, this curvy pink pony ripped him and yellow right out! I'm currently using them for pillows, which, who knew? Right? You'd think they'd be all sharp and pointy but they're actually surprisingly comfy."

"In-ah-deed, that is sur... prising..."

"I didn't know your dream body could even get tense. You must really need a break, or something."

"A break isn't exactly what I... need. This new culture that Celly built is so boring and uptight, I think it's the term, these days."

"Sounds lame-o to the max (not The Maxx, a vital difference)."

"Hah, you know I do not, ahhhhh, get one third of your references. Yes, just like that. Mmm... I had noticed that your body was dreaming an extra dream tonight. Is this new box the cause, then?"

"Oh, I hope that he's dreaming about me! He's so nice! Except when he isn't nice at all."

"How pro-unnnnn... profound."

"He helps me out, like a lot. He can see through our hallucinations. And he always knows just the right thing to say. Besides, the readers love my little text boxes! I think I might even love him, too."

"Ahhh, young love. You must, mm hmm, meet the new Princess of Love. She, unh, she can see the red strings."

"Red's my favorite color!"

"Yes, I– yes, oh!"

"Oh hey-o! Uh, not to interrupt the girl talk or anything, but that adorable pompf sound effect (and the wing blade almost taking my arm off) reminds me of something that I've had occasion to wonder lately. Why do pony wings get all stiff?"

"Oh... well... in this, mmmm, particular, ahh, case it is because you are... mmmmm... massaging annnnn... erogenous zone, and it feels reallllllly... ohhh, very nice."

"Oh, uh... That makes as much sense as anything, I guess."

"Ah!"

"...So this means wing boners are a thing, then. Good to know, good to know."

"Though it, oh! Though it also can be caused by fear and... aaaah, and surprise."

"...i c..."

"Oh that is just, ahhhhh."

"Sooooo... this entire area–"

"Ah!"

"–right here–"

"Oh!"

"–is a pony sweet spot, then?"

"Yes! Yes, right there!"

"Do you want I should stop or–"

"DEADPOOL SO HELP US IF THOU CEASE THINE MINISTRATIONS NOW, WE SHALL BE MOST WROTH!"

"Yeesh, ok, ok, a simple 'don't stop, moar plz, Deadpool you're the best' wouldda sufficed. No need to break out the caps lock."

"WE APOLOGIZE FOR OUR – AH! YES! Yes! I'm– uwaaa! Deadpool!"

"Yeah baby, that's it. Right there, just like that, huh?"

"Ahh, yes, yes, please, yes, oh, please. Please! Oh, oh, oh!"

"There you go, Lulu. There it is. That's the ticket, just Elsa it up and let it go."

"Deadpool... make-- uwaaaa!"

"Yeah, sweet stuff?"

"Ah, sense making, you, oh, yes!"

"Honey, you know I never make sense."

"Unf."

"Feel better?"

"Verily."

"..."

"..."

Ok, I'm back! Sorry about earlier, guys. I went for a walk, had a brew and I think I'm ready for this. So let's get this party started!

"Too late. We partied just fine without your useless ass. Thanks for nothing," Deadpool said.

"Oh? 'Tis you again?" Luna asked between deep breaths.

Why is Luna speaking all season one like and panting so heavily?

"Well, about that party I mentioned earlier..."

And why is everything wet?

"Funny story, I–"

You know what, I'm gonna go ahead and stop you right there. I'm pretty sure I don't actually want to know the answer to any of those questions, anyways. Just, uh, ignore me and carry on, I guess.

"We would have ignored thou anyways," Luna muttered grumpily. She rolled over and
wrapped a shaking wing around Deadpool, pulling him down in an only slightly awkward cuddle. He ran his fingers through her mane lazily.

"You tell that dumb author, Lulu," Deadpool said encouragingly. She snuggled up against him and sighed. He moved his hand from her silky, barely corporeal mane to her soft ears. She closed her eyes and nuzzled under his chin.

"There is something to be said for fingers," she murmured. Deadpool laughed.

"I ain't even shown you the half of what fingers can do, Sweetness," he said as he stroked his other hand down her belly. Luna moaned and then sighed.

"As delightful as that sounds, the time for my return to the waking world approaches," she said regretfully.

"Aw, so soon? But we just got started on the good stuff!" Deadpool said in protest, whining only a little bit.

"My body summons me. Perhaps, tomorrow night you can show me what human fingers can do that minotaur fingers cannot," she said as she faded from the dream.

"Yeah! Tomorrow night we can– Wait!"

"Whaddya mean, minotaur fingers?!" Deadpool shrieked as he abruptly jumped to his hooves.

"Yah!" Spike cried out as he jumped away in surprise.

Deadpool leapt at Spike, picked him up and held him snout to snout as they hovered just above the crystal floor.

"How am I going to measure up to a fucking minotaur?" Deadpool said in a loud whine. Spike opened his mouth to reply, but Deadpool continued on, "I didn't know this world had those assholes in it. With their freaky, giant, bull d--" Deadpool seemed to remember that Spike was actually still a kid and also that the sun pony would probably roast him alive if he damaged him too badly. Deadpool cautiously set Spike back down and then awkwardly patted the top of his head. Spike was less than impressed.

Spike crossed his arms and raised an eyebrow. Deadpool touched down and fluttered his wings nervously. He really did not care for fire.

"Minotaurs have freaky, giant, bull what now?" Spike said.

"Well, hey, would you look at that! My fairy godmother came by and magicked me up a pretty pony princess dress!" Deadpool declared loudly as he picked up the not quite spandex super suit and started putting it on.

Spike rolled his eyes and shook his head.

"That's a superhero costume, not a dress," Spike said in mild concern. Deadpool paused in his awkward flailing to look at the suit carefully.

"Shit, this is a suit. Uh, I knew that!" he said nervously as he now slipped into it surprisingly easily.

Spike idly wondered which demigod he had upset to be assigned as this weird pony's foalsitter. Then he remembered that it was Twilight.

"If you really want a dress I'm sure Rarity wouldn't mind making you one," he said in the long suffering tone of one familiar with the eccentricities of ponies. "She's getting a little bored since Tirek. Everypony is still recovering from his and Discord's magic stealing spree, and this tapestry won't take her long once she picks a design."

"Uh-huh. No idea what you're talking about, bud, but there's no time for that now! I need to make some mo-neigh!" Deadpool said. "Hey, you need anyone killed? I can give you a good deal! Half up front, half on completion."

"What? No! Don't go around killing ponies for bits, you'll get in big trouble!" Spike said in surprise.

"You don't! Don't kill ponies, it's wrong!" Spike snapped, green fire licking out of his mouth.

"It's kinda what I do. I am a mercenary, ya know." Deadpool said lazily. Spike seemed surprised.

"You are? Where's your license, then? And with which company?" Spike asked suspiciously.

"Wouldn't you know it, I left all my things with my other body!" Deadpool said cheerfully. Spike sighed the sigh of the long suffering sane dealing with the mad.

"Whatever, just don't kill anypony on my watch," Spike conceded. "Now, seriously, focus. You need a bath, it isn't really a choice, either," Spike added quickly when Deadpool opened his mouth to give his opinion on the matter. "Rarity summoned Aloe to take care of you while she disciplines the help."

Deadpool wiggled his eyebrows suggestively under his mask.

Deadpool shuddered.

"Thanks for the flashbacks, asshat," he muttered in irritation at his boxes. "Being tied down sucks," he offered in explanation at Spike's expression.

"I'll, uh, take your word for it? Anyways, come on, this way to your frou-frou spa time," Spike said as he started walking out the room. Deadpool flew beside him, trailed by his boxes.

"LOL, healing factor!" Deadpool said saucily.