Those are the exact words that are going through Deadpool's mind right now, as he stands frozen with his guns pointed directly at the interloper's forehead. His heart actually drops a little at the sight of those douchey sunglasses; that spiked up hair. He mentally berates himself for being ten times an idiot-- they're both assassins, aren't they? It was practically inevitable that they'd wind up in this situation. He was just hoping that it'd be later rather than sooner.
He's stalling. One second, two seconds, three... this is not good. Any second now his client will be suspicious of his actions, wondering what's taking him so long to simply kill the intruder. So, Deadpool does the one thing that could possibly save them both from a potentially uncomfortable situation-- the one thing in his bag of tricks that he knows how to do, and do well.
He talks.]
Travis Touchdown.
[The name is a sneer.]
You know I'm actually starting to recognize your theme music now? Thought I heard a few strains of it when you busted in here. What's the matter, can't get it up without a little ego-stroking?
So lemme guess-- you decided to try your hand at eating at the big kids' table, huh? I can't tell if you're incredibly brave or just an absolute moron. I'm leanin' towards the moron part, though. I mean, look what you're wearing.
[His words are cutting, harsh, designed to hurt, but his eyes hold a note of concentration; of desperation. Banter, his eyes are saying. Talk. I'm trying to think of a way outta this.]
no subject
Those are the exact words that are going through Deadpool's mind right now, as he stands frozen with his guns pointed directly at the interloper's forehead. His heart actually drops a little at the sight of those douchey sunglasses; that spiked up hair. He mentally berates himself for being ten times an idiot-- they're both assassins, aren't they? It was practically inevitable that they'd wind up in this situation. He was just hoping that it'd be later rather than sooner.
He's stalling. One second, two seconds, three... this is not good. Any second now his client will be suspicious of his actions, wondering what's taking him so long to simply kill the intruder. So, Deadpool does the one thing that could possibly save them both from a potentially uncomfortable situation-- the one thing in his bag of tricks that he knows how to do, and do well.
He talks.]
Travis Touchdown.
[The name is a sneer.]
You know I'm actually starting to recognize your theme music now? Thought I heard a few strains of it when you busted in here. What's the matter, can't get it up without a little ego-stroking?
So lemme guess-- you decided to try your hand at eating at the big kids' table, huh? I can't tell if you're incredibly brave or just an absolute moron. I'm leanin' towards the moron part, though. I mean, look what you're wearing.
[His words are cutting, harsh, designed to hurt, but his eyes hold a note of concentration; of desperation. Banter, his eyes are saying. Talk. I'm trying to think of a way outta this.]