THE MERC OF THE SQUAD

Chapter 4

THIS IS A FLASHBACK CHAPTER. I SHOULD HAVE DONE THIS CHAPTER A WHILE BACK, BUT I JUST NOW THOUGHT OF IT. YOU'RE GONNA LOVE IT! PROMISE...

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~DEADPOOL'S POV~

Wade was asleep in his cell, cheek pressed uncomfortably against his hand truck. He was dreaming about riding a taco to Taco-Land. "I love Taco Tuesday!" He said in his dream.

Then he heard a pattern of kicking on the door and woke up. There were some mumbles from the other side, then the door slid open. Wade didn't have a watch, but considering he just fallen asleep a few minutes ago he was pretty sure it wasn't wake-up time. So he wore a double-puzzled expression as Griggs walked in... alone.

"Isn't it a bit early for you to ruin my good dream?" Shockingly, Griggs didn't say anything. He just looked at him indifferently. Something seemed off about him. He looked less high and mighty than usual. 

What came next made Wade a bit anxious: Griggs pulled out a syringe the size of his you-big-kids-know-what. Next thing you know, Griggs stung the needle into his neck and before he could even open his mouth, Wade passed out.

(TIME SKIP)

It was all a blur. Everything seemed to be purple. Or was it black and blue mixed together? Honestly, Wade had no idea. You'd think he'd be used to passing out by now, though. He blinked a couple of times and a ceiling came into view. Wade lifted his head that had been resting on the top a chair back. Milliseconds after, a terrible headache echoed through his head. He hissed at the pain and shook his head. "What was in that syringe?"

Pretty soon the headache subsided, allowing Wade to scan to room. It appeared to be some kind of dentist office, like he was a kid. Everything in the room, even the dental chair he was in, resembled a dentist office, except the torture tools that seemed to replace dental utensils. He attempted to leave his dental chair, but had the horrifying realization that he was latched onto it. "What the hell?" This couldn't be Belle Reve, could it? He must've have been somewhere else, but where? 

As if on cue, the door opened. Wade turned his head around and saw five or six gangsters, each holding a different kind of gun. The biggest was probably the most intimidating and looked like he meant business. "Uh, hello, Mr. Jesse James. Over here!" Wade called him, only to receive a cold stare for a reply. "Oh, yeah. I forgot...," Wade turned back around in his seat. "Gangsters are partially mute."

"Blah-blah-blah-blah-blah..." Came a creepy cold voice from absolutely nowhere. Suddenly Wade felt icy, rough hands on his shoulders. They were white like gloves but white like paint, and covered with rings and tattoos. "Careful, Wilson, or all the chitchat's gonna getcha hurt."

"Ooookay? Um..." Wade said, his unsureness riding on his words. Then the cold hands started rubbing his shoulders, making Wade uncomfortable. "Yeah, hands off the merchandise, pal. This was not a cheap jumpsuit, all right? Who do you think you--"

Then the man behind the hands peered around to Wade, revealing his cold-blooded face. It looked like a mixture of a clown and that Jared Leto guy. His eyes were like that of a wild dog, and his grilled teeth didn't help the scenario. The tattoos from his face matched the ones on hands, but were designed unalike. 

The man - or clown - sneered at and slowly crept to the front of the dental chair. "Wow," was all Wade could utter.

The clown man bent down, leaning closer to him. Wade remained still and stared him in the eye. Soon the two were literally face to face, and Wade could smell his liquor-scented breath. This went for about 10 seconds and then the clown backed away. But he didn't stand up straight yet. "Wade Winston Wilson." The clown narrated his name, before putting his hand to Wade's face. "A pleasure."

Wade looked from the hand to him. "What am I supposed to do with that?" He asked, cluelessly. He already knew the answer, he just chose to play stupid this once. There was no way he was kissing some clown king's hand. 

"I think you know what." The clown replied, moving his hand closer to Wade's lips.

"Yeah, sorry, pal. I never kiss on the first date. I mean, what are you even supposed to be? The entertainment for the kids?" The clown merely gazed at him, ever so slightly titling his head. Out of the blue he quickly grabbed onto Wade's head pulled it back.

"You got jokes, my friend. I'll admit." He cackled like he meant it. "I admire a good sense humor, Wade. But now... is a time to be serious."

"Uh-huh." Wade nodded callously. "Who are you again?"

The clown jumped back, grasping his heart like Wade had burned it. "You mean you don't know who I am?" He gasped. "Well, then, what a beautiful time to get acquainted." He started to circle Wade's dental chair. "You see, I'm what you call a entrepreneur of uncivilized arts... A-a beacon for criminal madness." 

He shot at Wade and got in his face again. "I bring a smile on the word 'gangster'." He grinned menacingly, and began circling Wade again. "What does that have to do with me?" Wade asked.

The clown raised his finger. "I'm glad you asked. You see, every king needs his queen. It's like in chess, when there's no queen the king falls and soon so does the empire. I don't wanna see that happen to my empire," he rested his hand on his chest, "and, odd as it may sound, you're the key to getting back my queen."

Wade furrowed his eyebrows. "You want me to be your queen?"

The clown chuckled, clapping his hands. "No! I need you to help me rescue my lady. She's in the same hole as you are. I've already got a way to get her out, so... All I want you to do, is to make sure she stays alive until I come pick her up, m'kay?"

Wade looked at everyman in the room. "So you want me to be her bodyguard?"

"In a manner of speaking, yes." The clown nodded, leaning on the sink counter behind him.

"In that case, sorry buddy. But I got my own shit to deal with. I don't have time to be some lady else's substitute boyfriend for a day."

The clown cracked his neck, and pushed off the counter. "Tsk, tsk, tsk." He shook his finger. "I'm afraid you don't have much of a choice."

Just then two sets of strong hands grabbed his head and latched it to the seat head. "What now? You're gonna kill me? Good luck with that."

The clown came back around, this time with two electric shock pads. "Oh, I'm not gonna kill ya, Wade. I'm just gonna hurt ya... Really..., really..., bad."

"Yeah, we'll see about that, pot spice." Wade remarked wittedly. "Oh, and by the way... Heath Ledger was better." He whispered. The Joker smiled at him one last time, then the pain came crashing down.

(Sucker for Pain plays)