Three Kings of Hell

"Wait, where did you find this quack? Cut your chest open, and the tumor might be bigger than your lungs. How did he dare operate?"

Roland was utterly baffled.

"He's a new member of our band. We got drunk at a band party, and I only came up with the idea because I was wasted," Deadpool explained. "The doctor was drunk too. The only reason the operation didn't kill him was that the doctor could use magic."

"That sounds exactly like something you lot would do," Roland sighed.

"It was just an unfortunate accident."

"I'm out of options. I'm a doctor, not a miracle worker," Batman said. "Modern technology can't save him anymore—neither can future technology."

"How about taking him to my place for a soak in the Lazarus Pit?" Roland asked.

"Forget it. This guy already has a knack for setting off major incidents. Who knows what disaster he might cause after a dip in the Lazarus Pit.

"Batman shook his head.

"Father, don't you have any resurrection items without side effects?"

"I do, but obviously I'm saving them for myself. Why would I give them to him?" Roland spread his hands. "How about contacting the Three Kings of Hell?"

"All three at once? I don't know if I could take that." Deadpool instinctively rubbed his lower back.

"...I'm not talking about the Death Goddess," Roland reminded him. "If you're planning to bribe them, it's your ass that might not hold up."

"Sorry. Force of habit."

"What exactly did you do with the Death Goddess? Does Thanos know about this?"

"We even did it right in front of Thanos. Heh heh heh."

"I'm not interested in your romantic history. Can we get back to business?" Batman asked.

"I don't think that'll be necessary anymore." Roland looked above the Ice