Wade 'Deadpool' Wilson

After handwavily spending the day out in the preserve avoiding people practicing his knife throwing, Deadpool ambled back on into the house.

And found it quiet and dark.

Weeeeeird.

"Arashi? Araaaaashiiiiii!" He poked around the kitchen, the bedroom, the backyard. No ninja.

Huh.

After finding neither hide nor hair- (I love that phrase!) -of the not!husband, He sat down on the couch to watch some Top Chef. He was rooting for the really tall guy. Though for some reason he thought the guy needed a robo-arm.

Right.

Then noticed the note. Oh. This couldn't be good in any way shape or form. Who says that on a note!?

He started pacing, occasionally peering back at the note and trying to figure out if there was some hidden meaning behind those two insidious words. There had to be, right? (Right, like he loves you.) Right! What?! No! Wrong! BAD! WRONGBAD! He had to squish words together to describe the panic this caused. Word squishes were always bad! Wrongbad even!

Sitting down on the couch again, Deadpool just stared at the note for a while.

"Crap."

[[Establishy! For I have a social life tonight!]]