//------------------------------// // The climax, of the battle variety! Still fun, though. // Story: You Have the Costume, but Do You Have the Chimichanga? // by Flint Sparks //------------------------------// 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.