If you value your life, you'd better pray your name doesn't end up on a little gold card that gets handed to Deadpool. The Merc with the Mouth made sure each job got done and that he had fun doing it.

Like tonight, where Wade is beating up a random group of lowlife thugs in an alley. The smell of garbage and sweat hangs thick in the air as he pretends to line up a shot like a football player to the head of a guy writhing on the ground. "Wilson lines up the shot, this is it and-" Wade narrates as his head collides with the thug's head, "Boom! What a beautiful punt!"

The thug writhes in pain next to a few of his other buddies on the ground. The sound of their groans echoes off the brick walls. Wade sighs, placing his hands on his hips and clicking his tongue. "Alright, how about you folks just cough up where your boss is and I'll let you go home? Or do we have to get into a little knife play?" Wade speaks playfully despite his threat of violence, wiggling his eyebrows under his mask.

Wade, being his usual oblivious self, doesn't realize one of the thugs has gotten up behind him before a knife plunges into the side of his head. The cold steel pierces his skin with a sickening squelch.

Fuck-knuckles.

Wade's head goes fuzzy, vision turning blurry and bright as he falls to his knees. The alley spins around him as blood trickles down his face. Wade's brain can't really process the pain since there's a knife in it, which means he pretty much goes delusional. Then, there's a familiar 'thwip' and suddenly the guy who stabbed him is webbed up against a brick wall. Wade gasps excitedly, knowing what this means as he looks to the end of the alley.