"Shh, guys, guess what I found?"
Deadpool hid in a patch of grass, poked a hole through the branches and leaves with his fingers, peered toward the site of the explosion, then turned his head and spoke softly to no one:
"It's a wild Ivory Kings. Don't judge them by how ugly they are—their bean-sprout heads and deadman faces—but their heavy metal content is six times that of beef. Long ago, some hikers got lost on the African savanna, but they survived entirely by eating cow dung until they were rescued! What I mean is, no matter how awful Ivory Kings taste, they've got to be better than cow dung, right?"
"..."
The Nonexistent Audience seemed to be interacting with Deadpool, and quite intensely at that. The man hiding in the bushes even had black lines hanging over his forehead.
He shook his head desperately and said with perfect confidence:
"Don't talk nonsense. Who says I'm ripping this off? Bell could say it, but I can't? We've both been soldiers. Besides, can something scholars do be called plagiarism? Do you know how many ways there are to write the character for fennel bean?"
"..."
"Damn, pedantic. So pedantic. Someone actually knows that useless stuff."
With a blissful expression, Deadpool scratched his ass, casually flicked away a strip of dead skin with rotten flesh on it, then stomped his foot coyly, tilted his head, and pouted:
"Hmph. Anyway, if I say it's edible, it's edible. Hurry up and follow, send some gifts, and watch me catch an Ivory Kings and eat it for you! Thanks to 'Lick Colossus's Steel Door in Winter' for the Big Rocket! Love you, heart hands!"
What followed was a pile of flirtatious nonsense no normal person could understand, along with maliciously cutesy gestures and dancing. Even