The author sat at his desk, fingers hovering over the keyboard, trying to focus on his latest chapter. The room was quiet, the kind of stillness that begged to be disturbed. And, naturally, it was.
Deadpool appeared out of thin air, crunching loudly on a bag of chips. The author flinched, nearly spilling his coffee as the unexpected noise shattered his concentration. He looked up, only to see Deadpool casually lounging on the edge of his desk, chip crumbs scattering across the keyboard.
"Do you have to chew so loudly?" the author grumbled, his irritation barely concealed.
Deadpool flashed a grin, his chewing growing more obnoxious with each bite. "What? Can't a guy enjoy a snack while watching his favorite writer at work?"
The author sighed, trying to ignore the mercenary and get back to his writing. But Deadpool wasn't going to let that happen so easily. Leaning in closer, he peered at the screen, eyes gleaming with mischief.
"Ooh, are you killing off a character? Can it be someone named... Wade? No? How about Ryan Reynolds? No, wait! Make it a romantic subplot where the hero—"
"I'm trying to work, Wade. Do you mind?" the author snapped, cutting him off before he could launch into a full-blown rant.
"Mind? Me?" Deadpool clutched his chest in mock offense. "Why would I mind? I'm just here to offer my expert advice, free of charge!" He winked, then started tapping rhythmically on the desk.
The author's eye twitched as he glanced at Deadpool's tapping fingers. "Can you not?"
"Not what? This?" Deadpool's tapping turned into an impromptu drum solo, complete with a little tune hummed under his breath.
Taking a deep breath, the author tried to maintain his composure, his fingers itching to throw something at the red-suited nuisance. But Deadpool only got louder, his tapping evolving into an obnoxious beatbox session.
"Yo, yo, yo, the author's tryna write, but his buddy Deadpool's keepin' it tight—"
"Wade, enough!" the author finally snapped, the frustration boiling over.
Deadpool stopped mid-beat, blinking at the author with exaggerated surprise. "Wow, someone's grumpy today. What's the matter? Need a hug?" He spread his arms wide, moving in for an overly enthusiastic embrace.
The author quickly shoved his chair back, dodging the incoming hug like it was an attack. "No, I do not need a hug. What I need is for you to leave me alone so I can finish this chapter!"
Unfazed, Deadpool shifted gears, his expression turning solemn as he adopted a mockingly sincere tone. "Okay, okay, no hug. How about I just stand here... quietly... without saying a word... at all... totally silent... not even breathing..." He gasped dramatically and held his breath, staring at the author with wide, comically exaggerated eyes.
The author glared at Deadpool, who was now turning an unnatural shade of red from holding his breath, still refusing to leave. After a long moment of tension, Deadpool collapsed to the floor in a dramatic faint, his body flopping lifelessly at the author's feet.
"You're impossible.." the author muttered, rubbing his temples in exasperation.
Deadpool suddenly sprang back to life, his grin as wide as ever. "Impossible? I prefer the term 'irresistibly charming.' But hey, if you're really that desperate for me to leave..." He began to back toward the door, taking his time, dragging out every step as much as possible.
The author eyed him warily. "Wait... What's the catch?"
Deadpool grinned mischievously, pausing at the doorway. "Oh, no catch. Just... one... tiny... thing." He leaned casually against the doorframe, his tone dripping with mischief.
The author groaned, already dreading what was coming. "What is it now?"
"I'll leave you alone for the rest of the day... if you write me my own novel." Deadpool declared, his grin widening as if he'd just hit the jackpot.
"A novel?" The author's voice was flat, deadpan, as he stared at Deadpool with a mixture of disbelief and resignation.
Deadpool nodded eagerly, bouncing on the balls of his feet. "Yep! Full-length, action-packed, with explosions, chimichangas, and maybe a bit of romance. You know, the works!"
The author stared at him for a long, silent moment, then sighed in defeat. "Fine. Whatever. Just... get out."
Deadpool snapped a salute, his grin impossibly wide. "You got it, boss!" He started to walk out but paused dramatically at the doorway. "But remember... I'll be back!"
With that, he vanished, leaving the author alone in the now blissfully silent room. The author sat back down, fingers hovering over the keyboard, but his thoughts were already filled with dread about the next encounter.
Author's Note: I hope you all enjoyed today's extra chapter. As you can see, writing isn't always easy when you've got certain... distractions. See you next Saturday!
Deadpool (poking his head back in): "Don't forget the novel!"
Author's Thought: "There's no way I'm writing him his own novel. Screw that. I hate that annoying little... ugh, why do I put up with this?"
The author shook his head, trying to push the frustration away. He knew Deadpool would be back sooner or later, probably with even more ridiculous demands. But for now, he was determined to get some actual work done—preferably without any more interruptions.
Author: Muttering under his breath "He can wait forever for that novel. It's never happening..."