"Strange. So strange."
A lone figure wandered the streets of New York in the early hours of the morning. Like a ghost, he specifically slipped into alleys, loudly talking to the air as he walked.
"Folks, I just noticed a problem. I clearly sent everyone invitations to an engagement party, so why did they turn into invitations to a wedding ceremony by the time they reached people? And the guest count is wrong too. It's dozens of times higher."
He was baffled and wanted to yank out his hair by the handful, but because of skin cancer, he had no hair. All he had was a head like a rotten Italian meatball, so never mind.
The man walking through the darkness was Deadpool. After Captain America had been taken away by Peggy and Sharon, Deadpool had drunk quite a bit but was completely unable to sleep. With nothing better to do, he decided to patrol the streets like a Superhero.
He had been planning to open a little Mercenary shop, the kind of place that would do anything for money, whether it was murder or unclogging sewers.
But he had kept too low a profile in the past. He had a bit of a reputation in the Mercenary business, but ordinary people did not know him. If he wanted to earn their money, he needed some advertising.
Paying for ads was out of the question. He had spent all his money buying Inez a house, and even tonight's drinking had been paid for by the Captain. So he came up with the brilliant idea of becoming a Vigilante.
If he ran into some major incident while patrolling and successfully handled it, he would surely make the news, right? Wouldn't that be free advertising?
There was just one problem.
He had