𝒉𝒆 𝒘𝒂𝒕𝒄𝒉𝒆𝒔 𝑾𝒐𝒍𝒗𝒆𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒆 thrash against the golden, sparking bars, claws flailing uselessly. Turning back to Doctor Strange, he raises his hands in mock surrender. The white eyes on his mask widen innocently—well, as innocently as he can manage. ❝ Alright, alright, no need to get your Cloak in a twist, Houdini, ❞ he quips. ❝ I can explain everything. Well, maybe not everything—I still don't know how they get the caramel in Caramilk bars—but the important stuff, sure. ❞
He takes a step closer, leaning in conspiratorially. ❝ So, picture this: me polishing my katanas, him brooding in a corner as per usual—when suddenly, bam ! A rift in the space-time continuum. ❞ He gestures dramatically, ❝ Next thing we know, we're here ! In the land of inconsistent timelines and cameos that make the audience cheer. It's like a family reunion, but with more spandex. ❞ He glances back at Logan, who is now giving him a death glare that could melt adamantium. ❝ As for the walking Ginsu knife over there, that's Wolverine. Grumpy Canadian, healing factor, a real teddy bear once you get past the homicidal rage. And by 'teddy bear,' I mean 'wolverine that will absolutely eviscerate me if given the chance.' ❞ He taps the side of his head. ❝ I'm Wade Wilson aka Deadpool. The Merc with a Mouth, the Sultan of Sarcasm, Marvel Jesus. ❞ He starts pacing, hands animated as he talks. ❝ What are we doing here ? Great question ! Existentially speaking, aren't we all just tiny specs in the vast multiverse, searching for meaning ? ❞ He pauses, then shrugs. ❝ But more specifically, I'm here because the fans demanded it. Blame them. ❞
There he shakes his head, the white patches on his mask squinting as if rolling his eyes at himself while he looks straight pass Strange. Who is he kidding with these half-truths ? That's the kind of stuff that gets a guy six feet under—or in his case, a very painful regeneration sequence.