From another perspective, the Sharknado Universe was actually a very cheerful world. Even the ways people died here seemed incredibly funny, full of all kinds of tasteless humor.
For example, as Deathstroke and Lucifer flew along, they saw a Little Black Guy clinging to a streetlamp not far away. A pack of sharks surrounded the base below, constantly leaping up to bite his ass. From a distance, it looked as though he were repeatedly thrusting his hips at the high-hanging lampshade.
Death was only a matter of time. Human stamina was limited; there was no way he could compete with those sharks in armor. But at least he brought some joy to passersby before he died, right?
That was indeed the case. At that moment, a fat white man on the third floor nearby was hiding by a window and peering outside. He happened to see the Little Black Guy's predicament and immediately burst out laughing.
Then a shark flung over by the distant Twister flew precisely through that household's window. Its armored metal fin flashed, slicing off the fat white man's head.
Well, that made another seemingly endless red fountain. It even looked rather festive.
But Deadpool still liked red the most. Among all men, only he liked calling himself a passionate red rose without making others think he was effeminate.
Lucifer had collected some gifts. He had to admit that after changing his perspective, he found many things quite interesting.
Things he had once disdained might be treasures to someone else. They were perfect for giving as gifts.
He did not want to be Satan anymore. He wanted to live among mortals, which meant he ought to learn properly from Deathstroke when it came to interpersonal relationships.
Was Slade a Superhero? Obviously not. He was ruthless, operated from