The crashing sound from downstairs grew louder, followed by the unmistakable thud of hurried footsteps. Harley froze mid-thought, his face blanching. He knew that sound far too well.
"No, no, no. It can't be him," Harley muttered under his breath.
"Who's him?" Deadpool asked, already halfway to the top of the staircase. He peered down with a dramatic flair, his hand shading his masked eyes like a sailor scanning the horizon. "Please tell me it's not another version of you. That would be way too meta, even for me."
Harley groaned. "It's Dave."
"Dave? What's a Dave?" Deadpool tilted his head. "Is that, like, a type of demon in this universe? Or maybe an evil corporate overlord?"
"No," Harley grumbled. "Worse. He's my coworker. Kind of a self-proclaimed 'friend'—but really, just a pain in the ass. He comes around to my house uninvited all the time. And I swear he can smell when something weird is happening in my life."
Logan grunted. "Sounds like a problem we can solve by locking the door next time."
Before anyone could respond, a loud voice echoed up the stairs.
"Yo, Harley! You in here?!" Dave's tone was obnoxiously cheerful, but there was a predatory edge to it—the sound of someone who enjoyed being the center of attention, even when they shouldn't be. "You better not be hiding from me again, man. I brought your favorite—pizza rolls!"
Deadpool perked up. "Did he say pizza rolls? Okay, I like this guy already."
Harley shot Deadpool a withering glare. "Don't encourage him."
Seconds later, Dave appeared at the bottom of the staircase, a plastic bag in one hand and a smug grin plastered across his face. The grin didn't last long.
His eyes landed on Deadpool, Logan, Doctor Strange, and the alternate Harley—his face morphing from mild confusion to outright panic. "WHAT THE—?!"
Before Dave could finish his scream, Deadpool zipped down the stairs faster than anyone expected, pulled out a roll of duct tape, and slapped a strip over Dave's mouth.
"Shhh," Deadpool whispered theatrically, wagging a finger at him. "No screaming in the multiverse zone. You'll wake the plot holes."
Dave's muffled protests were immediate and loud, his hands flailing as he tried to back away. Deadpool spun him around like a reluctant dance partner, quickly wrapping the duct tape around his arms to pin them to his sides.
"Ah, there we go," Deadpool said, standing back to admire his handiwork. "Now you're wrapped in suspense. Get it? Wrapped?" He turned to Logan, who just rolled his eyes. "Tough crowd."
Harley smacked his forehead. "You taped up Dave? I mean… I should be grateful, but now I have to explain this mess to him when this is over."
The alternate Harley, still tied up, laughed despite himself. "Okay, that was worth it. I've always wanted to see someone shut Dave up."
Logan crossed his arms and leaned against the wall. "So, this guy just barges into your house for fun? You really know how to pick your 'friends.'"
"It's not like I picked him," Harley said defensively. "He just sort of… happened to me. Like a bad rash you can't get rid of."
Doctor Strange finally stepped in, his expression a mix of annoyance and impatience. "Enough. We don't have time for this. Every second we delay puts this universe at greater risk."
Dave's muffled noises grew more frantic, and his eyes widened in terror as he took in Strange's glowing cape and the swirling remnants of magical energy that still lingered in the room. He looked at Harley, his expression practically begging for an explanation.
"Dave," Harley said, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. "Uh… so, these are my… friends. Long story short, they're from another universe, and we're kind of in the middle of saving the multiverse."
Dave's muffled response sounded suspiciously like what the hell is wrong with you?
"Yeah, I get it," Harley said quickly. "This is a lot to take in. But, hey, at least you're part of something bigger now, right?"
Deadpool clapped a hand on Dave's shoulder, making him jump. "Cheer up, Davey-boy. Not everyone gets to meet an international icon like me. You're living the dream!"
"Focus," Strange snapped, his voice cutting through the chaos. "We still need to figure out how to stabilize this universe. And if this… Dave knows anything useful, we may need to question him."
"Question him?" Harley raised an eyebrow. "About what? The only thing Dave knows about is how to ruin my day and microwave pizza rolls."
Strange ignored him, his attention already turning to the shimmering cracks of energy that had begun to appear along the edges of the room. The alternate Harley noticed them too, his eyes widening.
"Uh, is that supposed to be happening?"
"No," Strange said grimly. "And it means we're running out of time."
Deadpool gave a mock salute. "Don't worry, team. I've got this covered. I'll interrogate our buddy Dave here and get all the answers we need." He leaned in close to Dave, whose muffled protests grew louder. "Alright, pal. Tell me everything you know, or I'll unleash my secret weapon: interpretive dance!"
Harley groaned. "This is going to be a long day."