Deadpool

I'm kinda lonesome back here.

- (MUMBLING) - (GRUNTS) Yeah, little help.

Okay, um, just, I have to keep my hands on the wheel.

Excuse me. Whoo!

Ah, Dopinder.

Pool. Dead.

Hmm, nice.

Smells good, no?

Not the Daffodil Daydream. The girl.

Ah, yes. Gita.

- Hmm. - She is quite lovely.

She would have made me a very agreeable wife.

But, um...

Gita's heart has been stolen by my cousin Bandhu.

He is as dishonorable as he is attractive.

Dopinder, I'm starting to think

there's a reason I'm in this cab today.

Yeah, sir, you called for it, remember?

No, my slender brown friend. Love is a beautiful thing.

When you find it, the whole world

tastes like Daffodil Daydream.

So you gotta hold onto love...

- ...tight! - Ah.

And never let go.

Don't make the same mistakes I did.

- Got it? - Yeah.

Or else the whole world tastes like Mama June after hot yoga.

Sir, what does Miss Mama June taste like?

Like two hobos fucking in a shoe filled with piss. Okay, enough.

I can go all day, Dopinder. The point is, it's bad!

Hmm, it's bad.

Uh, why the fancy red suit, Mr. Pool?

Oh, that's because it's Christmas Day, Dopinder.

And I'm after someone on my naughty list.

I've been waiting one year, three weeks...

six days and, oh...

14 minutes to make him fix what he did to me.

And what did he do to you, Mr. Pool?

This shit...

Boo!

They won't disappoint.

They'd better not.

And what about next month's shipment?

There won't be one.

You're not the only one with a war to win.

That won't do.

See, we've had this small disruption

to our supply chain...

We'd appreciate your patience.

Okay.

We'll deliver in full the following month.

Pleasure doing business with you.

Fucking mutant.

Oh, shit!

I forgot my ammo bag.

Shall we turn back?

No, no time.

Fuck it. I got this.

9, 10, 11, 12 bullets, or bust.

Right here!

That's, uh, $27.50.

I... I never carry a wallet when I'm working.

Ruins the lines of my suit.

- Oh. - But, uh,

how about a crisp high five?

Okay.

Merry Christmas.

And a convivial Tuesday in April to you too, Pool!

Wha... Oh!

Oh, hello. I know, right?

Whose balls did I have to fondle

to get my very own movie?

I can't tell you,

but it does rhyme with "Polverine."

And let me tell you,

he's got a nice pair of smooth criminals down under.

Anyway, I got places to be, a face to fix and, oh...

Bad guys to kill.

Maximum effort.

Cock shot.

Ha!

Rich Corinthian leather.

I'm looking for Francis!

Have you seen this man?

- Ow. Ow. Ow. Ow. - (RADIO STATIONS CHANGING)

Ow. Ow!

Yanky, yanky!

- (GUN FIRES) - (SCREAMS)

- (WADE GASPS) - (GROANS)

- (MAN GROANING) - (CAR ACCELERATING)

I've never said this, but don't swallow.

Shit.

Did I leave the stove on?

(ON TV) Now, breaking news.

A multi-car collision turned shots fired

on the crosstown expressway this morning.

Gridlock has kept police from the scene.

Residents are advised to remain in their homes.

The assailant appears to be armed,

dangerous, and wearing...

- a red suit. - A red suit.

Deadpool.

Negasonic! Come, we have mission.

Colossus, wait up.

I've given Deadpool every chance to join us...

but he'd rather act like a child.

A heavily-armed child.

When will he grow up and see benefits of becoming X-Man?

Which benefits? The matching unitards?

The house that blows up every few years?

Please.

House blowing up builds character.

You ate breakfast, yes?

Breakfast is most important meal of day.

Here, protein bar. Good for bones.

Deadpool may try to break yours.

Get out of the way!

(INDISTINCT SHOUTING AND SCREAMING)

Hey! Whoo! - (GUNS FIRING)

Wait!

You may be wondering, "Why the red suit?"

Well, that's so bad guys can't see me bleed.

This guy's got the right idea.

He wore the brown pants.

Fine! I only have 12 bullets...

so you're gonna have to share!

Let's count them down.

Shit.

Motherfucker!

Ten! Shit!

Nine. Fuck.

Eight.

Shit-fuck!

Bad Deadpool.

Seven. Good Deadpool.

Oh!

- Someone's not counting. Six. - (GROANS)

- (MACHINE-GUN FIRING) - Oh!

Four...

- (GUN FIRES) - (GROANS)

Gotcha.

Right up main street.

Three, two!

Stupid! Worth it.

Ah!

I'm touching myself tonight.

Francis!

Francis...

What the shit-biscuit!

Where you at, Francis?

You're not Francis.

Really? Rolling up the sleeves?

You're probably thinking,