Who lives in a shoe, honestly?

December 14, 2015:

Santapool delivers gags to all the spider… special little girls and boys.

Little Italy

One of the major small 'villages' within the city proper. Here is where, historically, the Italian immigrants came in to land and created a small piece of home in their new land. With Italian bakeries, delis, restaurants and such, life here harkens back to an easier, slower paced time. The area is known for their festivals; San Gennaro being the 'biggie' in which they close streets off with barricades for 10 days of celebration in September.


NPCs: Mr. Small



Mood Music: [*\# None.]

Fade In…

Swinging down low to the ground as he moved through the city, the Amazing Spider-Man gently closed the rear passenger door to one of New York's iconic yellow taxis. It was in his way, and the passenger was already in the cab, so he did it. But as he caught eyes with the passenger, he said, "woah, are you Nathan Fillion?" Unfortunately, by the time he got out "wo", he was already twelve car lengths ahead of the taxi, and sending out another web line.

"No time to star gaze, gotta get to the premiere." He fired off another strand of web fluid, and made an abrupt turn to the left, and then his spider-sense went off. "Not again, can't a guy catch a break?" This was a low key one, not immediate danger, but something was definitely going on nearby. He swung towards it.

Landing on a nearby balcony, he rested his feet on the railing, just above where it said 'Merry Christmas' in green and red LEDS, and between two large red bows, chalked full of LEDs. Behind him, there was a pretty nice looking outdoor couch. Too bad it had a blanket of snow over it.

And down below, there was a robbery going on. "If it isn't Mr. Small and his gang of pint-sized pugilists, they must be up to no good? I gotta stop talking to myself." And away he went, swinging down into the fray, looking rather like a Mexican wrestler fighting with little people, except these little guys are quick and agile. It's not quite super speed, but they're fast little suckers. "Hey, put that TV back! I was gonna buy it once it goes on special."
Mercenary work dries up around the holidays because everyone is getting into the spirit of the Christian religion Christmas that all people follow because they're not god damned heathens.

Good job flexing our politically incorrect muscles.

"Somebody has to press the envelop," Deadpool says to himself, bundled up in an oversized red and white coat with a fake beard tied to his black and red masked face. A huge bell rings with each sweep of his hand and a small overturned fedora rests where a salvation army box should be. "Hoe hoe hoe. Marry Christ." He bellows to the.. let's just call a spade a spade, it's the ghetto… and there's a robbery going on like forty feet from him. And Spider-Man is there.

And it's Ho ho ho.

"Semantics, they can't see the difference… only a spelling snob would say anything."

And we all know we're not that.

"We'll see… anyways! Should we help Webhead?" Judge the options, run the corners, look under his coat at the unlimited amount of weapons and ammunition he's carrying for such a festive occation. "It is the season of grieving."
Cindy Moon arched her back, legs dangling off a building ledge as she closed her eyes and let out a long running sigh. No small amount of nostalgia would wash over her as she surveyed the city and its holiday trappings, to say nothing of the niggling realization that this was going to be her first holiday alone. And really, that was a hell of a lot sadder /sounding/ than it really was- and there she goes moping again when she's supposed to be keeping her eyes open for crime! Though, what could she say? She was nothing if not very good at filling the sil-

Her inner monologue would be cut short as that familiar sensation ran down her spine, sending shivers cascading along her limbs as she perked and leaned out over the edge of the balcony. Her silk senses had warned her of something, and some little voice in her head was telling her it was irony fed by someone complaining they talk to themselves too much- but that had to be silly.

Well, only half as silly as the beat down happening a block and a half away from her current position, the woman kind of just stopping as she stared down the display. This… Was something? While she may have heightened senses, she can't fully make out just what exactly was going on over there. Some red blob was beating up a bunch of… elves? What was this?
Very carefully, Spider-Man webbed a 65" 4K Ultra HD LED OS TV, and there were probably a few other acronyms in there, pulling it out of the hands of one of Mr. Small's men, "I know you guys are probably already on the naughty list, but did you at least try to be good? I'm sure Santa would have cut you some slack." He sends the TV to hang from a railing, out of the reach of Mr. Small's men.

Then he leaps up into the air, webbing two of the henchmen together, facing each other. They're so cute in those little elf suits, but of course, he wasn't taking photographs of this action. There's no way that Peter Parker was going to give J. Jonah Jameson an image of Spider-Man beating up Little People, or Santa's Elves, or Santa. He needs the money, but not that badly.

In the ghetto nearby, there aren't many people about. It's cold, and if they have a place, they'll be in doors. But there are a few guys with guns, eyeing up Deadpool in the Santa suit. The look could best be described as disbelief. One of them even seemed interested in drawing a gun on the guy, but the 'leader' waved it off with a subtle gesture.

And Silk, she's not alone. She has a pigeon to keep her company. In fact, it just gave her a Christmas present to dodge. It's white, but it's definitely not snow.
"Oh snap, are these dudes flexin'?" Deadpool says to… well… nobody. Santa has his naughty and nice list, but homie Claus don't play that. His big red coat is thrown open to reveal… weapons… lots of weapons. So many freakin' weapons. We're talkin' big weapons like assault rifles (two of them), medium weapons like shotguns (two of them), and ALL THE PISTOLS. "NRA carrying Santa Claus says, donate to salvation army…" Deadpool bucks at the group.

Even if they don't run, which would be wise perhaps, he turns to watch Spider-man beat up midgets… eyes on the hanging television. "Oh man, that'd look good in my living room…"
Cindy Moon blinks, her eyes going wide as she tilts her head. Did… That Santa just flash them? She's only getting more confused by the moment, though something tells her that all questions can be solved with the simple answer of 'its New York'. She really, just genuinely considers leaving, because this is far from a mess she's about ready to subject herself to. From the redman beating up the midgets to- well, santa Exposer.

She was just about ready to give up the whole 'crime fighter' by night thing this night when that sensation ran down her spine one more, the young woman tilting her head up just in time to see the incoming fire. It takes merely a moment for her to spring from the ledge, seemingly in slow motion as she shot out a web, turning this way and that as she made her way towards the fight. Yeah, see, this was totally intentional.

Ghetto or not, the three guys Deadpool was picking on were not really a gang, they were just some people getting fresh air, having a smoke, and protecting their home. They weren't out to start something, they were just there to defend what they had. So when Deadpool whips out those weapons, so many weapons, and big ones, they scatter. One guy jumps over the staircase, hiding on the other side. Another darts across the street. A third heads inside, probably hoping to barricade the door.

The white stuff splatters on the ledge, staining it, but Silk got away just in time. She won't have to wash or replace her costume. But Spider-Man isn't so lucky. He's been fighting Mr. Small and his Merry Men without any help, and despite the name, his guys are tougher than they look. Spider-Man's seen a nice tear near his left bicep, he's got a hole in his right thigh, that costume of his is going to need some work. "Hey, watch the costume, they don't grow on trees. Hey, you guys are dressed like elves. You wouldn't be able to help a guy out and find me a magic costume making tree. The last time I did that, it kind of came out evil, but I'm sure the second time is the charm."
You heard the man. Embrace it.

I didn't hear anything of the like. I was watching The Wire.

"Better than playing that lame Fallout 4… Ooooo…" Deadpool half covers his mouth, walking around in circles, "Oh no he didn't… screw you Bethesda. No ending where you convince all those lame factions to work together? They're all, help us Obi Won Kenobi, you're our only hope.. but dare not suggest they work with one of the other factions!"

Deadpool adopts a -make fun of white guy voice- "Oh heck nah, that's just looney toon talk… we hate them because we aint them." Swinging his arms, probably to the chagrin of the onlooking people what was staring disbelieving at Santapool collecting for the Salvatio-… he's collecting money for rent, okay? Let's not dwell.

"Like if I were in your gang, right?" Marching right over towards a cab driver parked on the side of the street, probably startling really, "And I'm like, you know what we should do? Not kill everyone over in the midget fighting Spider-man gang like two blocks over there…" Pointing in the direction, "Because beating up midgets is sooooo not cool… I mean what's next? Is nothing sacred?" One of the thugs' shirt is twisted up in Deadpool's fists.

"WHERE is your HUMANITY?! Think of the children, dude.. The little midget baby factory where midgets are spit out of midget women assembly lines… They needed that HD television and now we're taking away their christmas! COMPLETE. Freakin. ANARCHY."

And because this can't make any -less- sense, he strokes the cab driver's face with the back of his hand, looking in the direction of Spider-man…. when he sees lady spider-man. "Oh…. oh man…" Finger to goons lip, "Shhh…" Finger tip rubbing beneath his upper lip against his upper teeth, into his nose, over towards his ear to wet willy him with his own saliva. "It's like… every Spidey-Deadpool slash anyone's ever done… but with boobs…"

The Cab driver, because this is weird, has been mostly quiet… but eventually he manages to say, 'I'm not in a gang, I'm a cab driver…' To which Deadpool says, "Shhh, you're ruining my immersion."

Nice save with the cab driver thing.

made it make even less sense.

Which makes sense…
Cindy Moon swings in, hand held secure on the silk line as she kicks her legs out, bringing them together and arching her back so they're presented outwards as she makes her arrival! Sadly, the Bad-Assness of it will be mitigated as she pulled, trying to figure out just who /exactly/ she was supposed to kick here. Time seemingly slowing as her mind raced to a conclusion, for now- aiming for the red blo- Spider-Man. That's spider-Man.

Crap. Craaaaaaaaaaaaaaap.

She pulls at the last moment, a grimace contorting her face as she zooms right over Peter, desperately trying /not/ to kick him in the face- and then going right over the elves as well. "S-Sorry! Sorry!" She shouts over her shoulder, her face already beaming a bright red as she realizes she absolutely just blew the entrance.
The Red-Blue blur gets a familiar tingling at the back of his head, and it makes him pull his head back, narrowly avoiding the not at all pointed toe of Silk's costume. He continues the move, webbing up two more of Mr. Small's Henchmen, and does a backwards somersault into Mr. Small himself, the man in charge. "Hey there, Mr. Small. How's it going? You been to see the sights? I hear the Statue of Liberty is wonderful this time of year."

He lands on Mr. Small's chest, and is already coating him in a nice, comfy webbing cocoon. Most of the gang are already strung up, dangling from one surface or another. Though he did almost break a TV, having to slide in the slow, ruining more of his costume, to catch a 4K Blu-Ray player. "4K Blu-Rays, funny, I didn't even know they had these things out. Cool, I'll have to remember to pick one of these up."

As for the guys down the street, one is still hiding, cowering really, behind the staircase, hoping that Deadpool doesn't see him. A second has made a nice big barricade against the door. He even has somebody's couch up against that. And the third one, well, the poor guy tripped on the curb, smashed his face into the sidewalk. If it weren't so cold, there's be more blood. He's definitely going to need some dental work.
Deadpool sits down on the curb beside the fallen hero what will need teeth work and lays a hand on his shoulder, rubbing it lightly, then lays his arms on his knees to finish watching the little engagement between Sipders and midgets. "The fact that David Arquette isn't in this situation is… yeah, I'm probably the only person who watched that movie."
"I saw it." The poor guy says from the sidewalk. Deadpool turns a little and pulls a face with a nod, "Way to kiss up, you're now part of my crew. We're going to be the… uh… I got nothing. How embarassing."
one does not simply walk into witty retorts.
"Way to prove your point, buddy."
Cindy Moon eeps, pulling on her line once more, sharply bleeding her speed so she can land on one of the brick walls that hemmed in the alley-way which hosted Elf Beatdown 2015. "A-Aaah." She would start, sticking to the wall by one hand and foot as she flashed the most pained smile under her scarf. And well, it seems like the fight was over to. She couldn't help but curse herself under her breath as she hung there, she really would have been hard pressed to make a bigger idiot out of herself. Well. You know, unless she had accidentally kicked him in the head.

"H-Hey, what's up?" She would finally call down in a shaky voice, trying her best to act like this was intetnional. Yeah, she didn't flub the entrance, she was just uhm… Too cool to get involved with that fight!
"Part of your crew," the guy says, though with the amount of blood dropping from his nose, it sounds more like, "Fart on the loo." Maybe he's one of the ever dwindling imported British ghetto residents, like Ali G.

Elsewhere, and far less gruesome, Spider-Man seems to have wrapped up Mr. Small and his gang of thieves, and is now addressing Silk for the first time. "Holy copyright infringement, Batman. Webbing, spandex, spider-motif, if I had a lawyer, I'd have already called them by now. But…" and he can tell she didn't mean to hit him. She did pull up. "I'm Spider-Man. Thanks for intending to help out." He offers a hand to her.
It's hard to stay out of the action this long petting a dude who just busted out two of his front teeth on the sidewalk, so instead of doing that for ANOTHER pose, Deadpool pops up from his seat and trolls his way over towards the pair of spider themed individual with his hands in the oversized pockets of his Santa coat.
"I mean, how weird is it that three handsome heroes as us stumble upon each other in the middle of the ghetto, amirite?" That's so much better a greeting as ''hello'' or ''sup'' or even ''nice butt''.

All of those crossed his mind of course. Instead he just stands there gauging Spider-man's handwork, "You know… you have three parts of an afterschool special here…" Motioning around. "All we need is some animatronics and a bear playing the banjo."
Cindy Moon blinks, her head tilting a bit as her hair falls before her eyes, the woman giving Peter just the oddest look as he lists off her theme and costume! TO be honest, she didn't have an excuse, but- to be doubly honest, she didn't exactly care! She was quite partial to it all at this point, and well, if she could say so herself? She was under the impression that she looked SO much cooler than the OG Spider-Man, if only because black and white and red accents are far more interesting than ye olde' red and blue.

"I could guess." Cindy would reply, letting herself fall off the wall so that she can oh-so gracefully land before him. "You know, just doing my part!" She chirps, alright Cindy, just take it cool- He's only just *the* Spider-Man. Its cool. You're cool. So cool. You got this.

"So… Uhm." She starts, glancing at the elves scattered about them. "Is there a story behind this or am I supposed to just take 'Its New York' as an answer?" She asks, biting her lip somewhat.
It's a little odd when she doesn't shake his hand, but Spider-Man doesn't let it keep him down. Instead, he just goes about moving the TVs, Blu-Ray players, and any other stolen electronics, putting them back. He'll web up the doorway afterwards, to prevent anyone else from stealing the goods inside.

"It's New York works, but if you wanna know, Mr. Small suffered a kind of fabric softener-related accident. It permanently gave him accelerated speed, and reduced his height. Somehow, he managed to turn it into a spray form to give to these guys. Last I heard, it wears off in about an hour." At that point, Mr. Small chirps in, "it now lasts three hours." And the guy spits in Spider-Man's general direction. "Thanks, I'll let the Daily Bugle know."

Looking at Deadpool, he shakes his head. "Since when are you a hero? Do you kill people with kindness? No wonder I can't get any good press if guys like you are heroing too."
"Hey now, there was that one time that I killed those dudes who were doing really horrible things at that one place… and I didn't even charge!" Deadpool opens his hands and motions around, "I don't blame you for not knowing about it… I'm turning over a new leaf. At least until it gets boring and I go back to not doing any of that stuff…" Which could, in all fairness, be in the very near future given Deadpool's 'boredom meter' being terminally ill equipped.

"Oh yeah, does he know me? Me and Spidey go way back… Don't we Spidey? I think we share an aunt." Deadpool is perfectly well clothed beneath the coat! He even has guns and stuff to cover him even morer than normal clothes because there's so many guns that they act as an extra layer of not being able to see him naked.

"He doesn't return phone calls…" Wade ducks and throws a couple playful swats at Spider-man's stomach, "But it wouldn't matter because I don't have a phone. I do most of my talking on the line."
Cindy Moon kind of just, well- she's going to stand here and stare at Deadpool. "… You're a hero?" She starts, only to go wide eyed when she realizes who exactly this was! It may have taken a moment, but the momentous nature of this meeting could not be denied. "SANTA FLASHER!" She declares, throwing out a hand in his direction as she takes a step back, it had to be the odd santa clause who just- oddly opened his coat towards the fighting group. ANd honestly, Peter's explanation of the scene flies right over her head as she regards Deadpool with the exact kind of suspicion that a pervy santa deserves.

And then she turns to Peter, cocking an eyebrow as she looks between the two with just the most confused look. "You know him?" She asks, letting the question hang as she takes one more siddling step towards Peter.
Groaning, and putting a hand to his mask for added emphasis, "way more than I'd like to… Wade," he shakes his head, "Wade Wilson, this is a girl who likes to dress like me. Girl who likes to dress like me, this is Deadpool. Why don't you two get to know each other. My spider-sense is tingling." It's not, like at all. Firing off a web line, which catches the edge of a tall building, "the city needs me," and he thinks to himself, he needs a useable shot to sell to the Daily Bugle. Maybe he could make a second pass and get a shot of them with the tied up Mr. Small and his gang? Sure, it wouldn't involve Spider-Man, but it'd be good to have Peter Parker get somebody else, even if it is Deadpool and Girl Who Dresses Like Spider-Man. And as he's moving away, he calls out, "oh, and no guns under the tree, or Santa Pool will go on my naughty list!"
"Love'em and leave'em." Deadpool frowns beneath his mask and arms crossed over his santa coat, "That's how he does it… He's like a young, impatient me with morals and maybe a conscience and certainly a far worse tailor… I mean, red and blue?" Pause, "And black.. and white?"

Wade tsks quietly and shakes his head, "Now black and red? Those are strong, masculine colors, amirite? Look at that one spider themed guy, scarlet spider or… mexican bean dip spider.. or whatever the hell they're calling him… that dude has the right idea!" Pointing down at one of the webbed midgets, "Your gimmick is kind of weird… but I respect your right to be vertically challanged and I don't judge you for being unable to reach the second shelf without a foot stool."

Bases covered on PC?

"Think so… anyways!" Deadpool pulls off his Santa beard, coat, and hat and hands the whole bundle over to Cindy, beneath he's wearing a whole bunch of guns and stuff. "I got to go meet a guy who wants me to do a birthday party appearance for his kid…" While he's waiting, he pulls out markers and starts adding blue to his own spandex suit so he looks like a ghettofied Spider-man.

Then he's heading off in a random direction, no telling what Cindy done did, but it doesn't matter! There's heroing stuff to do! For money!

Unless otherwise stated, the content of this page is licensed under Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivs 3.0 License