The key to getting along with other people was communication, and language was the bridge of communication.
When communication was done right, big problems became small; otherwise, differences would grow larger and all kinds of conflicts would arise.
But communication between people and pets was often not so easy.
Although Wade had always wanted to communicate with his Symbiote, Venom had unilaterally cut off the channel of communication. No matter what the host said to it, all it wanted was to escape. It ignored him completely.
The host's brain was full of shit. What was there to talk about?
Turning into new underwear? Turning into Mexican Burritos so they could eat each other? Or helping scratch tumors inside his rectum a few times?
Were those requests a normal host would make of a Symbiote?!
Venom's disobedience had made Deadpool want to sell it. He felt the Symbiote was useless, and its presence meant he could not freely peel the dead skin off his ass or burp freely through both ends. It was extremely annoying.
But now, he had changed his mind.
Deadpool nudged Fury's headless corpse with his toe, then leaned against the alley wall beside him. The distant streetlamp cast an uncertain light over his red-and-black mask.
After a long while, he sighed and spoke to his shoulder. "You should go. I don't like you. A black robot's life is still a life, and I'm a man striving for a PG-13 rating. I absolutely cannot tolerate my Symbiote being racist."
Yes, he was preparing to abandon Venom.
Though he was a Mercenary and had always been without principles, for the sake of his lofty goal, he could no longer let Venom have anything to do with him.
Venom took one bite whenever it saw Fury now. What if it