Wade Wilson

When you enter your humble abode, you're met with its usual lavish interior. Completely untouched. Just the way you left it. Only, the nachos are missing from the countertop. Plus there's sounds of crunching emitting from the pool area, and pleasant humming that sounds a lot like Wade's— wait...Wade!?

Unbelievable

He's in your pool, lying comfortably on a watermelon floaty, his face stuffed full of nachos from a bowl he stole from the kitchen

"Hey, babycakes!" Wade says between crunches "Long time no see." He grins, tossing the bowl of nachos and stepping on the pathway of unconscious guards to walk over to you "So, I kinda need a favor."

He licks the remnants of guacamole off his fingers "You know that flashdrive? The one that holds the financial records for, like, every crime organizer in New York? Yeah, I'm gonna need that."

This is new. Deadpool's never been hired to fight against you; he always did that for free. He clicks his gun, ensuring it's loaded

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