"Hey, do you know where Lord Mar-Vell is? I've got a great treasure to show him!"
On the streets of New York, Deadpool crept around with a suitcase in hand. Whenever he came across a Meatball or a lump of flesh—anything with one eye or several hundred—he would sidle up, open the case, and show them what was inside.
How should one put it? He looked either like a drug dealer or a pimp.
He couldn't do business, nor did he have any experience hawking wares. To make a living, he could only imitate the merchants he had seen in nightclubs and try to sell the two heads in his possession.
"Squeak, squeak!"
A passing malformed humanoid had five heads, while its lower body had melted into something like rotten mud. It answered Deadpool in a language he could not understand at all, then slowly resumed its aimless wandering into the distance.
"Ugh!"
Parched from all that talking, Deadpool went to the roadside, found a broken staircase wrapped in flesh and blood, and sat down. He pulled out some liquor from his waist pouch to wet his throat, then spoke into his communicator.
"Lex, your plan isn't working. I can't communicate with these things at all. These chunks of meat have no intelligence, let alone any desire to buy something. Have you ever seen a salesman who could sell ecstasy to Superman? Of course not."
"No, it will definitely work." Still hiding within the invisible ship, Luthor directed him remotely and answered calmly. "According to my calculations, all flesh in this universe is connected. It can even be viewed as a single whole. So long as you keep trying and accumulate enough attempts, something will notice you."
Any living creature would react to external stimuli.
Past experiments had shown that