"Didn't you start this topic? Even though you acted kind of perverted in the dream, I still appreciate you coming to save me."
Spider-Man, wearing nothing but briefs and his mask, picked up the socks from beneath the cabin sofa and prepared to put them on. The fabric had gotten a little stiff; they could stand upright on the floor. But it was no big deal. A few hard rubs softened them up enough to wear again. "I don't know how I fell asleep or how I woke up either, but next I need to find a planet suitable for human habitation, build a colony there, and become the first high-school landlord in space. I probably can't play DOTA with you today. Why not find someone else? There are still plenty of bad guys locked up in Earth's prisons. They should have time."
When it came to spouting nonsense, Little Bug and Deadpool were actually about evenly matched. The only difference was that Deadpool's words tended to be dirtier, while Peter was simply chatty.
He could make jokes out of the tiniest things. For example, if he saw someone eating pizza or hamburgers, he could launch into a speech from the perspectives of nutrition and social value, rattling off something comparable to an absurdly long thesis in one breath.
That was why Deathstroke had always thought Little Bug had a bit of Multiple Personality Disorder too. The difference between him with and without the mask was simply too great.
"All right, brother, go keep looking for your planet. I have absolutely no need for that kind of adventure. You know why? Cousin has more planets than he knows what to do with. We Wilsons are a classic old-money family. I can go to any of his planets, so why would