[Comprehensive Anglo-American] If someone goes to save Deadpool

Wade is missing.

It was the third day after their wedding that Brad realized exactly what happened.

— Wade hasn't been home for three days.

Four days ago, the morning of Wade's third day of illness, the day after his cancer diagnosis.

Brad pulled Wade, who was in a bad mood and drunk the night before, out of the bed and stuffed it into a formal suit.

"What?? Stop, stop! Wait, wait, wait, wait!" Wade snatched the toothbrush from Brad, who almost accidentally pierced his cheek, "what are you doing? Are you impatient to murder your husband? Why be in such a hurry, you won't have to bear any charges if you wait a few more months."

"Oh, Maybe, but even if I don't have to wait for a few months, I don't have to bear any charges. Be sure to believe in my strength," Brad threw the facial cleanser over, stood still and looked at him, and said in an exaggerated tone, " You know, if you weren't so drunk, I wouldn't need to be, I was going to get married yesterday, but look what you did yesterday, you vomited all over me, the stench and the smell of alcohol are gone All my thoughts."

Brad pointed to his penis.

But Wade unexpectedly did not start a dirty conversation with him.

"Are you serious?" Wade may have asked so seriously for the first time in his life, "You want to marry a guy who has something growing in his head, penis, and lungs, and is about to die soon. ?”

Brad had never seen Wade look like that.

He was happy and sad, happy and desperate.

"Yes, of course, I'm very, very sure. We agreed the day before yesterday that we were going to get married yesterday. You were hospitalized yesterday, so you can't push it until today," Brad rubbed Wei Wei with his hands. De's cheek, smiled, "You know, my plan will never be canceled unless it is a major event."

"Yeh, it's really not a big deal. I lost my head, breasts, and lungs. It's not like I can't live."

"Nonono, you may survive without a head and lungs, but you must not survive without a . . . "

Wade paused, as if he suddenly understood something, he took a deep breath: "OK." He grabbed his coat and was about to go out, "We'll go right away."

"No, no, you have to wash your face. You can't just wash your face right away because you're married."

But now, Wade is missing.

It was the third day of their wedding, and Brad determined that Wade was missing.

Brad Brad calmly listed the following options.

1. Homicide.

2. Suicide.

3. Kidnapping.

4. Run away from home.

Brad made an analysis expressionlessly.

Homicide is impossible, impossible in this life, no one can quietly kill the object of Brad's strict protection under the nose of Brad, and even though Wade has cancer, he has not lost his mobility, It is impossible not to notice a little danger, and not to leave any news to Brad. This is impossible, so homicide is ruled out, and kidnapping is also ruled out in the same way.

Suicide is also ruled out. According to Brad's understanding of Wade, Wade is definitely not such a person. He will never commit suicide quietly because of this kind of thing. marry.

Brad lingered on the option of running away from home for a long time, and finally decided to find out about Wade's recent friendships, and then find him back.

How did you find it after you got it back?

Brad thought grimly.

break his leg.

"Bob." Brad stood in front of Bob, maintaining a polite but fake smile on his face.

Bob had a bad intuition, and countless words about Wade Wilson flashed in his mind that needed to be mosaiced.

really.

"What happened the last time Wade came to your place for a drink?"

"Uh," Bob swallowed his saliva and spread his hands, "you know, nothing happened with a cup of '□□', no pretty girls, and of course, no handsome guys."

"You know, that's not what I'm talking about. Wade ran away from home. I need to know where he is." Brad's fist was clenched tightly, and the veins on the back of his hand burst, which made Bob realize , Brad was really angry and worried.

—even with a smile on his face.

"Uh……"

Brad leaned over and threatened in a low voice: "I really want to blow up this place, don't give me this chance."

"A man named Stryker came to him that night."

After Brad left, Bob breathed a sigh of relief.

A man came over. He scanned Bob from top to bottom, and then leaned on the counter and asked, "Is that Bradrick Francois? Unexpectedly, you can still pry into the corner of Wade's wall."

Bob took a sip of his wine and ignored his question. Instead, he asked a question that was not as good as a horse's mouth: "Do you think Francois ever showed any other expressions to Wade?"

"what?"

"I feel like he has a smile on his face."

Stryker.

Wade Wilson.

Brad drew a line between the two and wrote the words Mutation and Modification.

Maybe we should say something about the first time Brad and Wade met, during one of Stryker's mutant massacres.

Wade belongs to the side of the massacre, but Brad, he neither belongs to the massacre, nor does he belong to the massacred.

He is a passerby.

Maybe he should be described as such, a poor passer-by who came to hand over the task but found that his employer was involved in troublesome things and killed.

Of course, what is even more pitiful is that he hired a mercenary who, although reliable in the mission, was actually cold-hearted and could watch him being killed.

When Stryker was desperately looking for things but couldn't see the curse, Brad came out of the corner with the box in his hand.

"Whoareyou?" Stryker asked, his eyes slowly focusing on the box in Brad's hand.

"Stop! Put down the box in your hand!"

Brad pretended not to hear, he knew that someone raised the gun in his hand, and the mutant with long nails was staring at him and was about to move.

But to be reasonable, Brad considered himself a principled person. He said that he would hand things over to his employer, so unless he died, he would not give up even if the sky fell.

Brad easily found the employer's corpse, and then gently placed the box next to the employer's corpse. He patted the young man standing next to the employer, leaned into his ear, and said with a soft smile: "Pick up the things yourself, leave the box, I want to pack things."

"Okay." The young man imitated him, "Youaresocool

, I will also play like this next time. "

"Thank you for the compliment. Of course you can appear like this. I won't charge you copyright fees." Brad calmly opened the drawer he had agreed with his employer, took out a wad of money from it, and waved at them, "Relax, Gentlemen, I mean no harm."

He took the box handed by the young man and put all the money in it: "I'm not the same as you, I'm only for dollars."

Stryker stood up and stopped those who wanted to attack him: "yes, for dollars, then, are you interested in cooperating with me for dollars?"

Brad replied as he walked out: "no, thanks, as you can see, I am only interested in US dollars because I like to spend them after I have them."

In the end, he threw a wink at Wade, who was standing aside and didn't know him yet.

Wade: "Wow, he is really spicy, much more flavorful than BeaArthur?"

"Wade, can you shut up?"

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Continue to ask questions about Ugly Bat Chou's article, does anyone want to read it?

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