Sunday, February 28, 2016

[Fur Fiction] Deadpool and a rabbit.


Written on my Netbook - so totally a 'get what you pay for' production. :)

* * *

"Look, Mr Fluffy here says you thought he'd look good in a cookpot and took exception to this." Deadpool held the miscreant by the throat against the wall. The guy's feet were clearing the ground by a couple of inches.

"Actually, it's Bernard." Said the large, grey, French Lop who'd been told 'That's a good stew!' by this idiot who thought they were being funny. Like rabbits never heard that 'joke'?

Deadpool looked down at the bunny. "Bernard? Who calls their rabbit Bernard?"

"MY human, that's who!" Bernard huffed. "I was named after the elf in The Santa Clause."

"Uh, if you guys are busy.." said the would be jokester, squirming.

"Not at all!" Deadpool happily told the guy, giving him another good thump against the wall. "Now, as I was saying, Bernard here thinks you're a jerk. And y'know what? So do I."

"Uh, sorry?"

"Don't apologize to me, apologize to the bunny. I mean, you're the jerk who hurt his feelings by insinuating pets are food and not friends."

The jerk looked at Bernard. "Uh, sorry?" he repeated.

Deadpool turned to look at open space. "I don't think he's sincere, what do you think kids?"

"What?" asked the jerk.

"Don't mind him, he does this." Bernard said.

"That's right, I do!" Deadpool hoisted the guy up and tossed him across the room. The jerk landed with a clatter, bouncing off the couch and onto the floor. Before he could sort out his limbs, Deadpool had marched across the room and grabbed him once more. "Now, once more with feeling! We don't eat our friends." He paused in his shaking, "Well, we do, but in an entirely different way, and I don't think non-bunnies should be doing that to bunnies and certainly not without their permission."

Bernard tilted his head to one side.

The jerk's head was obviously spinning. "I'm sorry Mr Bunny?" he tried.

Bernard sighed. "This guy is clueless. I mean, you'd think chewing on his cables and peeing on his boots would have taught him a lesson in the first place."

"Internet trolls. Should be put under bridges and buried." Deadpool said overly serious. "Should we do that Charles? Should be we bury you under a bridge?" He hauled the guy by the throat over to the window. "I can see a few nice bridges!"

"Uh - my names not Charles.." the jerk managed to protest.

"Do I look like I care, Charles? I don't care." Deadpool told him. "Now, pick a bridge, any bridge!"

"But.. Please.. look.. I didn't mean.. I thought it'd be funny..!"

"Is he peeing himself yet?" Deadpool asked Bernard.

"Don't think so." answered the bunny.

"Well, I have better things to do. Twelve year olds to frag, twenty year olds to bag, old women to throw across the street, y'know the usual." He switched the jerk to a one handed grip and yanked up the window with the other. "Say goodbye Charles!"

"Goodbye Charles." Bernard offered as the jerk spluttered.

Deadpool threw the jerk out the window. The jerk screamed and there was an awful thud and rattle a couple of seconds later.

"Oh don't worry Mr Bunny, he landed in a dumpster. I mean, if Daredevil can survive it, so can jerky boy." Deadpool crouched down and picked up Bernard. "Of course, ole DD did have the script writers on his side.." He turned and strode through the remains of the front door of the jerk's apartment, ignoring the people who were peering out of their doors to see what was going on. The appearance of a tall man in a red suit carrying swords and guns made them all rapidly disappear.

"Do you drink beer? I'm thinking of getting something hoppy."

"Oh you're a laugh a minute." Bernard grumbled.

Deadpool stopped and glared at the rabbit. "HEY! I'm sixteen point two laughs a minute! Just ask my writer! It's in my contract."

"You're a very weird human, you know that? And that's a pretty impressive thing as humans start off pretty weird."

"I'm talking to a rabbit. You're not one to talk." Deadpool hopped over the banister of the stairs and landed with a good solid thump before hopping down the other floor. "Ha ha. One to talk. I kill me." Deadpool stopped, looking off into the air once more. "Regularly. Don't try it at home kids."

"I think I need that beer." muttered Bernard.


Wednesday, February 24, 2016

[Random Blathering] An Ode to weaponry.

 

Since I'm procrastinating from doing actual work, I shall tell a story which I remembered while picking on Chewie last night. (The WoW gamer, not the Wookie.)

Way back in time the long suffering Sam O'Dell was running a Werewolf campaign. Werewolf is a typical dystopian role-playing game blending fantasy, horror and modern world aspects. I was playing a fairly clueless Fianna (Irish descended) werewolf who hadn't 'changed' until she was well into adulthood. (To cover the cluelessness of the player.) She didn't like actually KILLING and avoidied it at all costs, even when it came to the dark forces the werewolves battled. One of these forces were fallen, corrupted, werewolves who belonged to a tribe called the 'Black Spiral Dancers.'  So my character, whose name I've long forgotten, decided to design a new sort of weapon.

The beautiful thing about Werewolf is if you can think of it, you can probably create it. Being friends with the tech-friendly tribe of Glasswalkers, meant that whatever-her-name-was could buy a device that was a nice blend of the mystic and the technology. And I'd thought of a good one.

I suggested to a nice Glasswalker mystic that I should be able to have a mystical epilady. For those that don't know what an epilady is/does, it's a device that basically rips your hair out from the root to give you a supposedly long lasting, hair free, body part. I've never found it particularly painful, more stinging, but I'm told there are those that find it excruciating. So. Ms Fianna wanted one that didn't clog. She/I wanted to throw it the BSD's to rip their fur out. This led to the idea that it should roam on it's own happily ripping hair/fur out, to distract the evil werewolves while the rest of Ms Fianna's pack did whatever it is they needed to do.

The Glasswalker stared at her open mouthed. (Sam, our long suffering game master, was equally impressed.) He didn't even charge her to make it.

So, when I threaten with epiladying from 'head to to head to toe', gentleman, this is the device I'm thinking of.

Which I'd never actual threaten Chewie with, because he's a sweetie.

But.. It'd make a great weapon against Wookie too..