Wade 'Deadpool' Wilson

Hey, look at that, Deadpool was actually doing his job for a change. Who did that?

Other than Zoe.

Maybe the hot chick who did security. Skywalker. All the other teachers. Okay, everyone but Deadpool did actual work. After making an announcement, he just waited for the magic to happen.

Or for his updates on Angry Birds to finish so he could play.

[[Open, of course!]]

So, guess what Deadpool hadn't done in ages. No, not kill folks. And no, not end up in other books to boost their sales by being bigger than Jesus The Beatles Wolverine.

It was tossing sharpened pencils at the ceiling to see how many stuck. God. Get with the program.

...he was an awesome influence.

[[Oooopen]]

Something was off today, but Deadpool couldn't quite put his finger on it. No, it wasn't the lovely weather or the fact that he was wearing new underwear.

He put his feet up on a set of suitcases labeled: 'HOMICIDAL TENDENCIES', 'WANTS TO DIE', 'CALLING IT A SKIN CONDITION IS BEING KIND' and 'CANCERCANCERNCANCER'. Then, after relaxing, he hought long and hard on the matter for just a little while longer. Maybe it was the new detergent he'd gotten. His mask did smell like an field of freshly bloomed flowers...

Tapping his fingers on a case labeled 'IS WRITTEN BY DANIEL WAY', he sighed. "I'm sure there's somethin' different..."

[[I HADTA. OPEN, SURE.]]

Deadpool was in his office, not at all being some whiny emo vampire. He was contemplating buying that sparkly vampire series just to set it on fire and dance gleefully about the ashes.

It would soothe the savage beast within.

Though, Nate being a chick was pretty damn hilarious, not gonna front. Hey, you had to get your fun where you could on an island like this.

[[Open!]]

Okay, so it was a little late to come into the office, but he was totally there!

Cleaning up--okay, so helping Jan try out her new toys and trying to beat a psychotic little monkey thing until it died--had really taken up a lot of his day. He wasn't paternal still, got it? It was just good manners and there was cake.

Mmmm.

Cake.

Unlike certain people, Deadpool didn't have to scrub paint off his face.

...he had to scrub it off his mask. And it would not go the frick away. God help him, he was censoring his narrative despite the rage. There was something wrong! Where were the funny lil' symbols?!

(*@&$(@@!

Ahhh, much better.

But he was still stuck trying to pick paint out of fabric with a letter opener instead of doing important work. It was a fair exchange in his mind.

[[Open office hours are open!]]

Someone was bored. Someone was bored enough to try throwing pencils at the ceiling again.

About half of them stuck.

Really, he counted that as a win.

[[Open, but SP!]]

Deadpool was in his office for... reasons that were a bit beyond him. He was pretty sure there was some sort of paper work to be done, but right now he was busy poking at a certain kid who thought he was Gambit's file. And contemplating giving him detention.

For looking at him funny.

...Deadpool thought he was clever.

There was a marathon of those Crime & Justice-y shows on today. Leading up to the Goldblum, he was sure.

HE COULDN'T WAIT FOR SUNDAY AT THIS RATE.

So that would be why he was in his office, watching TV. Riiiiiight.

Deadpool most certainly not looking for toys online. That would just be... silly. He wasn't the type to go all domestic over some little rugrat who kept trying to say his name in an adorable fashion.

Nor did he already have an order for anything in particular.

Oh, shut up.