Anyone who will look at me. Secretly, I'm very lonely... I'm loveable! If you insanity turns you on and you over look the scars.
Who Am I...
DEADPOOL, The Merc With The Mouth, The Guy Who Just Won't Die, The Regeneratin' Degenerate, The Wolf of the Rice Wine, AKA Wade Winston Wilson or D. Pooly to my honey buns out there.
My Story Is...
Wade Winston Wilson... He sucks. More than I do right now even! And that means he REALLY sucked. Mom died when he (he means "we" or "I") was young. Then one of his drunk friends shot his ("our" or "my") dad. And since his dad was a military punk, hey, Wade figured, why not me too? So he joined the Special Forces... and was promptly kicked out. ('Cuz we suck.)
Out of boredom, Wade joined a thingy called "Weapon X", which wasn't very smart at all, since they experimented with all kinds of mutants and dangerous things of the sort. Wade found out he had cancer and figured, what the heck, might as well die a test bunny than a sick, bald, pale piece of crap in a hospital. They gave him all sorts of stuff and in the end, Wade was just about crazy.("We" were flippin' nuts). Then, all of a sudden, this "Healing Factor" thing they had been trying to make worked and even though Wade was just about dead, he healed right back up, albeit a little lumpy cuz it made the skin cancer go all kinds of wack, but hey, he was a live!
Well... really, I was alive. Wade was a wussy little Nancy Boy, so he ("we" )decided to become a mercenary... after we broke out of Weapon X, killed a buncha chums, and got a cool costume to hide the scars and lumpyness...
And we've been livin' large ever since! Except for the bouts of homelessness, washing up on a beach with no arm, getting beaten with a tree, crazy T-Rex with that symbiote, zombies, that Lady Deadpool chica, umm.... chimichangas gave me gas once too... And that jerk Cable...
Tall, dark, and handsome...
(Puh-leez... We're 6 foot 2, so tall is at least right... Dark is a lie too. Handsome is a TOTAL LIE. Even though Ryan Reynolds played us in that movie...)
Shaddup. At least I'm 210 pounds of solid muscle, got awesome abs, nice ass, tight chest. Biceps and legs to die for. (And we're still horribly scarred. All lumpy and bruised and oozing sores)
You make it sound like we're a leper!
(At least they get chicks. Strippers don't take our money...)
Our kick-ass costume hides all that though! It's all red and black and has all those niftly pockets and pouches...
Ah ahm eh-pick ween.
(Shut up and tell them what we do...)
Basically, I have this healing factor thing going on. My cells are constantly renewing themselves. Shoot me in the foot and I'll be fine in like... 12 seconds. Shoot me in the head... make that 12 minutes. Cut off an arm.... I'll just grab it and put it back. Burns don't last long, flesh wounds heal in a snap. I also can't get drunk unless I have a a few kegs to myself and chug it fast enough.. But not too fast or else my stomach couldn't burst... Meh, that would heal right up.
(We also can't get drugged or poisoned or sick. We might be functionally immortal... Unlesss someone threw us in a huge blender and then burned the mush and buried it on the Moon.)
Whateva. Also, my mind is all screwy, due to the whole "constant renewal of cells" ... So Not only am I nuts, but telepaths, no matter how strong, can't read my mind.
(We're in good shape too. We can bench like... 400 lbs. Got more energy than a sack of rabbit/ferret hybrids hyped up on LSD and Mountain Dew injections. We just keep going and going and going...)
Oh, hush... You're making me blush. I'm not a bad acrobat either. I'm awesome at fighting too. I made my own martial art. its called "Way of the Wade Fist" or more popularly as "Wade Kick Little Man Ass"and "NINJABUNNYGOHARD"
(We're good at kicking ass. And killing. Top marks when it comes to accuracy with a gun. Knives are fun. Katanas and claymores and other swords are even better. We also speak mucho languages-o. Japanese, German, Spanish, Russian, Pashto, Urdu, lots of other stuff...)
Inventory wise... Lets see... guns, more guns, lots of guns, plenty of ammo, ammo for days... I like sai too. Those things are fuuuun. Two katana are also great to keep around. I have a lot of knives too. A LOT. Like 25. Grenades are awesome.
I also keep a teleportation device. That baby is fun. It can take me worlds away, from Caleeforniah, to the New York Islaaands.
My Secrets Are...
(We're annoying as HELL. Literally. Wade sounds like Demi Moore too.)
I do. I love Bea Arthur too. And the Olsen Twins. They got a restraining order, but that's only because they don't trust themselves around me. I have that effect. Duodenum and chimichanga are awesome words too me. Taco Bell banned me from all their resturants.
(And yes, we know this is a Multiverse roleplaying site. We're self aware that we are probably being written up by some incredible fanboy who loves us a lot.) It's true. We're not real. ALL OF US ARE TOOLS!
(Don't make me.)
Mr. parentheses is my conscience of sorts.
(No I'm not. You're just crazy. Other voice is the conscience.)
[Why did I take this job? And I'm not the voice of reason, I'm just the writer.]
That I am awesome.
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