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

by Flint Sparks

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!

Comments

[Deadder]

Normally, I wouldn't comment on chapter 3 since I'll comment on chapter 4. But hey, I'm here.

[damnaion]

3# lol

[Ember Q Discordia]

*sigh* Don't kill me, but i'm named after that yellow asshole.
Also, spiderman's in that video.

[Lupus]

I have nothing to say, so...COMMENT!