The Best Frenemies Ever

by RainbowBob

Chapters

• Chapter 1: Dead On The Money
• Chapter 2: Punishable By Death
• Chapter 3: Impossible To Refuse Proposal
• Chapter 4: New Gig

Chapter 1: Dead On The Money

Somewhere In A Shitty Apartment Complex

“Wow, even basic cable has nothing good on,” Deadpool muttered, flipping through the channels on his television. Talk show with really fat black lady yelling about something, news report about mutant rats invading New York City from the sewers, Tony Stark starring in a commercial for car wax with his Iron Man suit, a sad ad campaign about abandoned puppies.

“Hmm... you’d think with the millions I make every time someone hires me, I’d be able to afford satellite,” Deadpool said to himself, pulling up his mask to take a sip of beer. “Or at least HD. Or maybe HBO. I’ve been meaning to watch Game of Thrones anyway.”

“Attention,” the television barked, Deadpool having clicked to another news station. It was a news reporter down in the streets of the city, where random citizens were running past and screaming in terror. “There are reports of raptor attacks all over the city, along with the invasion of the mutant rats. The Avengers are already on the case for the rat attack, but the raptor assault continues unstopped except from the defensive measures set by the police department. But bullets and brute force aren’t enough to take out this dinosaur menace. No, what we need is–”

It was at this point the news reporter's head was bitten off by a raptor, the blood from the major arteries spouting out like a fountain and falling on passing citizenry heads like rain. Crunching on the reporter’s skull, the raptor eyed the camera for a second or two, then pounced in a half ton of prehistoric carnage. Cries from the camera man could be heard, before the signal suddenly went fuzzy.

Slipping his mask back down, Deadpool kicked his feet up on the table. “Eh, he was probably gonna say ‘pizza.’ Or maybe ‘tacos.’ Heck, I can go for some ice cream in the meantime too.”

Suddenly, one of the ridiculous number of pouches on his suit started vibrating. 'Harlem Shake’ started playing loudly from within. Reaching into the pouch and withdrawing a phone, he flipped it open and said, "Yello?" 

“Deadpool, where the hell are you?”

“Mom, I told you, I’m not coming over for Thanksgiving until meemaw learns to quit making racist jokes about Obama.”

The line on the other end was silent for a few seconds. “Deadpool, it’s me, Captain America.”

“Ah, so I see my mom’s put you up to this too. I should have guessed. Still have racial overtones from the forties, I see,” Deadpool said. Holding the phone farther from his lips, he pointed at the receiver and shouted, “Well, you can forget it! I will not partake in any thanking for our pilgrim ancestors that wiped out the Indian population through small pox and undercooked turkey until you respect all races! You sick, bigoted bastard!”

“... I was just asking why you weren’t in the city fighting dinosaurs.”

“Oh, I’m on break,” Deadpool replied, swirling the beer around in his bottle lazilly. “Besides, you guys got it covered.”

“Actually, we don’t. The rat mutants are actually rat people mutants. And they have dark magic on their side,” Captain America explained, just as the sounds of screams and what was most likely a wicked awesome explosion sounded in the background. “Along with grenades.”

“Well, why can’t you get some other superhero team to help you then? Fight mutants with mutants.” Deadpool asked, still switching through the channels. “X-Men, X-Force, X-Factor, New Mutants, Generation X, Great Lakes X-Men, Excalibur–”

“Those last two aren’t even local!” Captain America shouted on the other end. “Listen, you’re the only expert we know about dinosaur fighting! Which is why I need you to go kick some velociraptor ass!”

“Wait, I’ve fought dinosaurs before?” Deadpool asked, tilting his head to the left to better recall flashbacks. “Was it the same time that I fought most of the undead presidents?”

“No.”

“The alternate universe full of zombie versions of ourselves?”

“No.”

“The IRS?”

“Yet again, no.”

“Wait... oh, I remember!” Deadpool chuckled, snapping his fingers once the memory reached him. “I rode on a pterodactyl in that one issue!”

“Yeah... anyway, I need you here on the double.” A screech followed by the tortured screams of a thousand souls, followed Captain America’s last statement. “Make that triple. One of them is a necromancer.”

“But MacGyver just came on,” Deadpool said. “And I have no pants on.”

“Listen, if you love your country and value yourself as a hero, you’ll go to the city and keep on punching raptors until they’re all dead!” Captain America ordered, the pure sound of patriotism behind each of his words amplifying his voice to levels that nearly popped Deadpool’s eardrum.

Digging a pinkie into his ear-hole through his mask, Deadpool said, “Wait a sec, I’m Canadian. And a mercenary. And aren’t raptors endangered? Or at least extinct...?”

“Get here or else I’ll shove my foot so far up your ass you’ll be digesting laces for a week.” 

The call ended.

Deadpool closed his phone and briefly weighed his options. “Let’s see... go raptor hunting in the city and earn some level of respect from the other heroes that would no doubt help my public image,” Deadpool said, lifting one palm higher than the other. “Or stay here, not put pants on, and just watch MacGyver all day long.” Now the opposite palm was higher than the other.

“Whelp, it’s decided then!” Deadpool shouted, jumping to his feet and striking a heroic pose that was kind of ruined with him wearing Spiderman boxers. “I just can’t watch MacGyver on an empty stomach! To McDonald’s!”

Grabbing his utility belt and pants from the couch, Deadpool made his way to the front door of his living quarters and grabbed the handle. “Wait...” he said, a sudden realization just dawning on him. “I have an unexplainable feeling that something bad will happen once I open this door. Something that will have vast consequences for the future that can decide upon my very fate itself.”

Glancing to the right, he noticed his keys hanging off a nail he hammered near the doorway to remember them by. “Oh yeah, nearly left my keys here. Gotta lock the house before I leave.”

Snatching the keys from the nail, Deadpool opened the door to get his much needed Happy Meal before some MacGyver action. Instead of the empty parking lot he was expecting to open it to, there was a bunch of weird mutant insect creatures huddled around a large bonfire instead. That was his second guess.

Oh, and there was the typical ritual sacrifice, festering on the ground before him with its brains blown out, just as flies started to buzz around it.

“Our champion has arrived!” the tallest bug... monster... mutant... thing said, lifting one of its hole filled forelegs pointing directly right at him.

“Okay, Deadpool, you just opened the door to what is apparently a ritual sacrifice teleporter between dimensions of some sort created by a group of evil mutated bug cultists,” he thought to himself, still holding his pants and belt in one hand and his keys in the other. “What do you usually do when you find weirdos at your doorstep?”

“Sorry, but I am not interested in your religion,” Deadpool said, pointing his thumb to the right. “But why don’t you try asking my neighbor, Steve? He’s always open for conversation and crazy cultists.”

An awkward silence befell the group of bug bad guys, until the tallest one began to laugh. It was a sickly yet sweet chuckle, reminding Deadpool of many the one night stands he’s had once he pulled down his pants. The others followed suit, all creepily similar, as if they were a hivemind.

“Oh no, no, no. You have us mistaken,” she giggled, sauntering over to him with a hungry look in her eyes. Her licking her lips with the snake-like tongue also didn’t help. “We are not here to ask you about religion or anything like that.”

“Then is this about girl scout cookies? Or for the new mayoral election?” Deadpool asked, reaching behind his back to grip the handle of his katana. “Because only one will allow you all to leave with your lives.”

Rolling her eyes, she said, “No, not that either. What I need from you is for you to do a job.”

“Oh.” Deadpool slid the katana back into its sheath, rubbing the back of his head sheepishly. “Well, I am listed in the Yellow Pages for this type of thing. So, what can a mercenary like me do for you?”

“I need someone dead,” she answered back simply, that devious smile on her face going full blown psycho. “And you’re the best assassin in the entire multiverse to do this particular assignment.”

“Wow, the multiverse thinks that highly of me?” Deadpool asked, laying both hands on his sides. “Guess that Yellow Page ad did pay off!”

Chapter 2: Punishable By Death

Somewhere In An Underground Hideout With Bad Plumbing

“Ugh! Ack! Mmph!”

“So, you gonna tell me where your boss is hiding his cocaine supplies?” the Punisher asked, cracking his knuckles. The spit, followed by blood on his shoes, answered his question clearly. Sighing, he tightened his gloves with their steel knuckles attachments and drove another fist into the mobster’s face.

This time the scumbag didn’t even make a noise. The only sound was of his teeth scraping one another in his mouth as the fist forcibly moved them together, followed by his blood spattering against the floor. A weak moan escaped his bruise-ladden mouth as he slinked down in his tight bindings on the chair he was tied to.

“You know, I went through a lot of trouble in planning that hit on the drug house you worked at,” the Punisher explained, scowling down at his captured prisoner. “Blocking all the exits, figuring out the guard schedule, finding out the number of people inside, planning out all entryways, incorporating every possibly thought out Plan B you can think of. All leading up to one survivor to interrogate, which just happens to be you. Aren’t you lucky?”

“G-go to... t-to hell...” the mobster grunted, a mix of saliva and blood leaking out of the corner of his mouth.

Still with an unamused expression on his face, the Punisher pulled out his glock and pushed the barrel right up against the mobster’s forehead. “Maybe all those times with me hitting your head has given you brain damage, because you don’t seem to understand me. Unless you tell me what I need to know, you die.”

A chuckle that sounded more like a cough came from the mobster’s mouth. “You won’t kill me. You and the rest of you pussies dressed in spandex won’t ever do it.”

The butt of the handgun slammed against the mobster’s right temple, causing a whirlwind of stars to enter his quickly fading vision. Blinking rapidly to clear his sight, he found the glock was now being shoved directly in between his eyes–the Punisher’s scowling face right behind it.

“First off, I just killed all your buddies. Killing you will just be dumping another body atop the already stinking pile of human scum. Secondly, I don’t wear spandex. This is full body armor. And thirdly...” The Punisher smiled. It wasn’t a joyful smile, nor a sadistic one. No, it was just creepy, fear inducing, crap-in-your-pants-from-terror smile of a madman with a gun and finger itchy enough to pull the trigger. “I don’t like you.”

“Oh Jesus...” The mobster gulped, his lower lip quivering. “Down by the docks! The cocaine supplies are on an abandoned boat! The one with the green flag at the top! That’s all I know, I swear to God!”

“Good,” the Punisher said, standing back up from his kneeled position. Still with the barrel pressed firmly against the mobster’s skin, the Punisher said, “Now, for your helpful service, I’m going to–”

A knock on the steel reinforced doors to his secret hideout alerted the Punisher’s attention. Furrowing his brow, he ignored his prisoner for a moment to sneak to his front door. Barely making a noise as he made his way closer to the still knocking door, the Punisher threw his back against the wall and stared intently on the handle.

Holding his gun up high in right hand, with the other he reached over ever so slowly for the handle. Just as his hand brushed the handle’s surface, he pushed downward and pulled back, opening the door. Jumping to the left with his right hand pointed out holding his gun while he used the door to block the left part of his body, the Punisher shouted, “Freeze!”

Beyond his doorway was what was best described as a creature from the most girlish annals of mythology. A unicorn with wings. He couldn’t have been kidding himself even if he tried. There was literally a pristine white unicorn with big, feathery wings at his doorstep. And just to complete the look, it had a multihued, translucent mane that seemed to wave in some nonexistent breeze.

They both stared at each other in silent regards. One looking with curiosity, the other with complete shock. Finally, the winged unicorn cleared its voice and said, “Um... sorry to bother you at such a time like this, but I could really be using your assistance right now.”

“... Huh?” the Punisher said, his jaw still hanging open for what felt like a good minute. The first thing that registered in his mind was that the creature was female. The second thing was that it was wearing a crown. So it was a royal unicorn/pegasus thing.

“Look, I know this may be on short notice for you, but I need your help,” the creature said, shrugging its shoulders. “This portal was supposed to bring me to the most prepared person in the multiverse that can handle the impending problem I am in.”

“And that would be...?”

“From numerous reports of the guards, changelings have been spotted at the border of Canterlot. I suspect Chrysalis is planning another invasion on the city. That, and the powerful portal spell I sensed from in the direction where her camp is supposedly at, gave me enough insight to know another attack from her is imminent.”

“Wait... okay, hold up,” the Punisher said, waving his hand and shaking his head slightly. “You lost me at changelings and Canterlot.”

The creature rolled her eyes and rested a hoof against her forehead. “Listen, I can explain later. All you need to know is that a bunch of ‘bad guys’ are about to invade my kingdom, and they recently used a spell to summon from another world the best whatever they want to come and destroy me. Which is why I used a similar spell to get the one person from the entire multiverse that can take the person they summoned out of commission.”

“Wow, the multiverse thinks that highly of me?” the Punisher asked rhetorically, rubbing his chin as a small smirk flashed briefly on his face. It wasn’t everyday that a unicorn appeared at his doorstep, so he decided to humor her. “What I’m still trying to grasp is why you’re a talking unicorn with wings. Not every day one of those knocks on my door.”

“Alicorn is the correct term. But you can just call me Princess Celestia,” she explained. “But what I really need is help right now. I must protect my kingdom from all harm, including the type this new challenger Chrysalis has summoned will bring.”

“Who is this challenger anyway?” the Punisher asked, folding his large, muscular arms over the white skull that was predominantly his symbol for all his fashion wear.

“I did not get specifics. But he is of great power. Not mentally, anyhow. All I got from that was something about MacGyver and how great mayonnaise is on hot dogs.”

“Wait. There’s only one person I know who enjoys that condiment on their hot dogs.” The Punisher frowned, taking in a deep breath and sighing slowly. “It’s Deadpool.”

“You know him?” Celestia asked, arching an eyebrow.

“Yeah. Teamed up and challenged a few times. On and off friends or enemies. Depends who he’s working for, and what he feels like doing,” the Punisher said, his frown only deepening to newly disappointed levels. “We last met on a sour note when I shoved a shotgun up his ass and pulled the trigger.”

“You did... what?” Celestia asked, a face mixed with disgust, revulsion, and horror overtaking her face.

“I’ll explain on the way,” the Punisher said, glancing over his shoulder back at his prisoner. “Hey, why don’t I meet you up? I got some... business to attend to real quick.”

“But of course. The portal is still open, but I do suggest you be quick,” Celestia said, just as the Punisher slammed the door in her face.

“I will be,” the Punisher muttered, walking back to the mobster that was staring wide eyed at the portal and conversation with the mythical beast. Once he was within a foot’s limit, the Punisher said, “Anyway, back to our previous conversation. Now I’m going to kill you. Make sure you keep my seat in Hell comfortable. Yada, yada, yada, last pre-mortem one-liner, and– ”

One gunshot wound to the head and hasty packing later and the Punisher was good to go. Lugging over his shoulder a duffel bag filled to the brim with weapons of all sorts of deadliness, the Punisher stepped over the fresh corpse and made his way to the door.

“Yeah, just going over to help save the kingdom of a talking alicorn princess from Deadpool,” he said to himself, checking over his shoulder at his duffel bag. “I hope I packed enough ammo.”

Chapter 3: Impossible To Refuse Proposal

Somewhere In Some Dark Woods In The Middle Of The Night Outside Canterlot

“Changelings, the ritual is about to commence!” Chrysalis alerted her hive. Her loyal army bustled to do their duties, hundreds of changelings in all in the large clearing. The only light came from the large bonfire in the center of the clearing, and the pale moonlight from above.

“I want everyone into position now! Our champion awaits!” The warriors’ cheers sounded throughout the clearing, as the changelings formed into a perfectly aligned group of ranks, a formation done at the drop of a hat.

“Your majesty,” a changeling said, saluting his queen as he made his way closer. He was dressed in the ordinate outfit of a changeling high priest (If you must know, changelings worship tapeworms. Totally canon.), a lavish outfit of intricate colors, flowing garments and tons of feathers. “The ritual is prepared. All it requires now is your magical touch.”

“Excellent. With this portal completed, not even Celestia will be able to stand in our way,” Chrysalis said, making her way to the ritual site. “You are sure of that, right? Whoever appears through the portal will be able to kill Celestia?”

“Indeed, my queen,” the changeling priest replied, a confident smirk on his face. “I have set the appropriate runes for such a spell. Whoever appears from the portal’s entry will have the capabilities to kill Celestia.”

“What about kill me?”

The changeling priest chuckled and shook his head. “Not to worry, your majesty. I specifically made adjustments on the spell to make sure that the specific person who arrives via the portal is as blackhearted as yourself. As long as we pay them their required bill for this assassination job, they’ll comply.”

“Good. I want this invasion to be pulled off smoothly,” Chrysalis warned, finally arriving at  where the ritual was to take place. “Tonight Canterlot will burn to the ground, and Celestia will fall! Then I’ll have my revenge on those Element bearers, along Shining Armor and Princess Cadence. My fury will not rest until they’re all six feet deep in a hole in the ground.”

“They will be, don’t worry about that. When our champion arrives, that’ll be our guarantee for victory.” The changeling priest waved his hoof over the ritual site–a circle made over the ground from the soot of manticore bones, with runes and symbols made inside the circle from hydra blood. Candles surrounded the outside perimeter, made specifically from cocoon wax, with the lit fires on each candle being created from phoenix breath. The perfect type of satanic ritual to summon a warrior from the beyond. “All you need to do now is pour as much magic as you can into the circle, so that it may break the barrier between dimensions and summon to us Equestria’s doom!”

Grinning devilishly, Chrysalis’ horn glowed a vicious green light that cast a malicious illumination across the entire camp. The circle now glowed this same color, along with the blood runes turned from a dark red to toxic green in an instant. This spread until the entire circle was being powered by Chrysalis’ magic, with the candle light finally turning green as well to show signs the ritual was near completion.

Suddenly, a spark of green light appeared in the center of the circle. This was followed by another spark, then another, until what appeared to be a miniature thunderstorm was forming inside the circle. This thunderstorm swirled together, creating a whirlpool effect of sorts as the air buzzed with the power from the magic energies. Then, in a flash of bright white light, a gust of air blew through the clearing and nearly knocked several changelings down as the portal was completed.

Brushing a hoof through her eyes to clear them of any dirt that the gust kicked up, Chrysalis stared at the portal with wonder and amazement. Which quickly turned to surprise. “It’s... a door.”

A plain, old oak door, with a simple doorknob and the number nine symbol near the top. “Um... yes, it is,” the changeling priest noted, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. “See, the spell works to go to where the best assassin for the job is located, and then using a physical barrier to separate both worlds. You know, to prevent accidental mishaps with the portal. Which is why this door is in use.”

“Wait... what if the person behind that door refused my offer?” Chrysalis asked, the notion of such an event finally dawning on her.

“Then the spell will simply cycle and move onto the next most likely candidate,” the changeling priest explained, walking up to the door and inspecting the handle. “So then a new door will appear in this one’s place.”

“Very practical,” Chrysalis noted, an eager smile on her face for what was about to happen next. “So, do we open the door?”

“I think knocking in the better option,” the changeling said, lifting his hoof up. “If we just barge in there, our champion might take ill effect.” Knocking his hoof against the door, the changeling priest called out, “Hello, is anyone there? We require some assista–”

He never got to finish his sentence, on account of half his jaw being blown apart as a bullet exploded most of the right side of his face. Taking a few steps back, what remained of his right eye finally fell to the ground, along with the changeling priest with it. The changeling army and queen were in a shocked silence, watching as a pool of blood formed near the changeling’s body.

Somewhere In Some Seedy Apartment Complex

“Goddamn, even with basic cable nothing is good on,” Bullseye sighed, scratching at the bullseye pattern scar on his forehead. Flicking through a couple more channels, he was triumphant in finally finding a good station. “Sweet, MacGyver’s on!”

His joy was short lived, as someone started knocking on his front door. “Hello, is anyone there? We require some assista–”

As quick as lightning, Bullseye grabbed the pistol he kept on his coffee table, and without even glancing at the door, he shot at the speaker. A gushy explosion followed by the tell tale sound of someone falling in a dead heap on the ground put a smile to the sadistic assassin’s face.

“No way in hell is someone going to interrupt me during some MacGyver action,” Bullseye said to himself, leaning back in his couch and twirling his pistol on his finger. “Bloody Jehovah Witnesses. Or girl scouts. Pretty sure it’s the second, since I had to shoot so low.”

Somewhere Back To Where We Were Previously

“Uh...” Chrysalis was at lost for words what to do next. Her high priest was dead, and she still had no champion. Shaking her head and composing herself, Chrysalis turned her attention back to her changeling horde and shouted, “Not to worry, my loyal subjects! This was but a mishap! Our true champion shall be here soon enough!”

Turning back, Chrysalis noticed that a new door had appeared in the other’s place. And it was opening.

From the doorway came an unusual sight. The creature was bipedal, standing over six feet tall, and dressed in one of the most ridiculous outfits Chrysalis had even laid eyes upon. It was wearing a weird clash of red and black spandex, with an untold amount of pockets and pouches attached to both his chest and shoulders. He wore what appeared to be a mask with white eye slits to see through. And what was quickly the most important factor about his appearance was the fact he wasn’t wearing pants. Just underwear with spider symbols all over it.

“Our champion has arrived!” Chrysalis called out to her hive, pointing her hoof at the strange creature.

“Yeah... Yellow Page ad...” Chrysalis said, still confused what he was getting at. Coughing slightly to get his attention as he was basking in his own glory, she said, “Well, if our partnership is to continue, it would be proper of me to introduce myself. I am Chrysalis, Queen of the Changelings.”

“Name’s Deadpool,” Deadpool said, pointing a thumb at himself. “I kill people.”

“Then I’m sure we’ll get along just fine,” Chrysalis replied, her smile only growing as her grand moment of achievement would soon come to fruition.

“So... you created a portal just to get me to kill someone,” Deadpool said, a bit of pride sounding in his voice. Pointing to the dead body of the changeling priest, he said, “You even did a ritual sacrifice in my honor. I am really touched.”

“Um... yeeeeeeah,” Chrysalis replied, nodding her head in agreement. “Anyway, back to the matter at hoof. I need someone dead. Will you be able to do the job?”

“First off, how much money do you have?” Deadpool asked, starting to put his legs in his pants. “Secondly, how long will it take? MacGyver’s on.”

“Not too long. I plan for the invasion for tonight,” Chrysalis replied, looking over at two changelings dragging over a chest. Leaving the chest at Deadpool’s feet, she opened it, revealing a hoard of treasure. Gold, gems, ancient artifacts of the magical and deadly nature. Deadpool’s eyes immediately turned into dollar signs, and a cha-ching sound could be heard from his head. “Will this suffice?”

Pushing his hand underneath his shirt, Deadpool pulled out a pamphlet and handed it to Chrysalis. “Well, this is the typical rates for who I murder.”

Arching an eyebrow, Chrysalis opened the pamphlet and gasped. “You charge this much for royalty? This is ridiculous! A complete ripoff!”

“Look down below for additional killings.”

Chrysalis felt herself get a miniature heart attack. “Just... ugh.” Sighing, she rubbed her temples to relieve her frustration before she shoved the pamphlet down his throat. “I only want the princess killed then. I can’t afford any additional killings.”

“Don’t worry. If I do it by accident or for fun, it’s free!” Finally getting both legs into his pants, he pulled them up, clipped on his belt, and zipped up his zipper. “Now, let’s get started on this too fast paced and horribly planned out adventure!”

Chapter 4: New Gig

Somewhere In A Corridor In Canterlot Castle

“So, how long ‘til Deadpool and whatever cronies that hired him arrive?” the Punisher asked.

Celestia glanced over her shoulder at her guest. “Tough to say, but now that Chrysalis has Deadpool, I suspect she won’t waste anymore time. The invasion could begin any minute.”

“Not much of an invasion if we see ‘em coming,” the Punisher noted, shrugging his duffel bag full of various illegally obtained firearms to a more comfortable position on his shoulder.

In the less than five minutes the Punisher has been in this strange world, he’s gotten used to it quickly. That comes with the job of killing criminals 24/7 and hanging around heroes that regularly fight interdimensional monsters and aliens. He wasn’t all too surprised someone like Deadpool ended up in a place like this. That, however, left him to question why he was sticking his neck out.

Oh sure, he could be classified as a hero, but more anti in retrospect than most. At least he had the balls to put scum and other villains down like the dogs they are, and save the taxpayers a pretty penny for the decline of villain breakouts and property damage. Yet he was still seen as the bad guy in most of the hero community. Not like he gave much of a damn what they thought. He just did his job, and he did it well.

And his job currently seems to be helping this princess alicorn defeat an invading army. Normally not the type of gig he would be hired by, but this was different. Deadpool was involved, after all.

Deadpool may be treated as the joke of both the hero and villain community, but he was still a force to be reckoned with, and the Punisher guessed it was his responsibility to make sure Deadpool doesn’t do anything drastic. He was the only one around that knew how to handle Deadpool... somewhat.

Celestia nodded and said, “Yes, well, we’ve been keeping an eye on them for weeks now, outside the city walls. We’ve thought about driving them out ourselves, but–”

“That can give them an opportunity to sneak past the fighting and get into the city,” he interrupted. “So, you’ve stayed up protecting the defensives while they remain outside? A standstill, with your only advantage being that you have a wall keeping them out.”

“Indeed,” Celestia replied, impressed at his reasoning. “But I fear that with the advantage of their champion, they will commence with a full force assault at any moment.”

“So, you want me to pop some skulls or what?” the Punisher asked, glancing around at the impressive architecture of the castle. For a bunch of mythological talking horses, they sure had some swanky houses. Would put most crime bosses back on Earth to shame.

“Preferably I’d want the least amount of violence possible.” Celestia shook her head and sighed. “But it seems Chrysalis and her changeling army won’t have at that. I can take on Chrysalis while my guards can battle her changelings. Your job is to make sure Deadpool isn’t a threat.”

“So, I kill him. Got it.” Thumbs up to the princess and he was on his way, walking down the hall, while Celestia stayed behind with her jaw opened wide.

Quickly regaining her composure, she caught up back to the Punisher and asked, “But isn’t Deadpool your friend?”

“Sorta. Kinda. Not really.” The Punisher shrugged his shoulders. “Really, we’re acquaintances more than anything. I’ve shot at him a couple of times, he’s tried to chop my head off, we’ve formed a dynamic duo to take on both a ninja and intelligent ape armies. It depends on the situation. And with this one, I’m left with no other choice but to kill him.”

“Can’t you–”

“Kill him?” the Punisher said, a demented smile on his face. “Sure. But it won’t be easy. Heck, killing Deadpool might be the hardest job any villain or hero could pull off.”

“Is he exceedingly powerful?”

“Nope, just a tough son of a bitch to kill.” Both of them finally reached the end of the hall, where the doors to a balcony greeted them. Opening the door, the Punisher continued by saying, “First off, he’s completely psychotic. Crazier than most nuts in the whackhouse. Makes it impossible to predict him, or for any form of telepathy or mind control to work. Along with that is the fact he is a highly trained mercenary and assassin. He can go toe to toe to me in terms of combat and sharpshooting. And to just complete the fuck cake, he has one of the best healing factors I’ve ever seen. Nearly impossible to kill him that way.”

“So, he can heal himself really fast?” Celestia asked, joining the Punisher outside on the balcony, overlooking the city and outside walls.

“I’ve seen him get dismembered, riddled with bullets, stabbed more times than you could count, run over multiple occasions, blown up sky high, all the bones in his body broken into bite size pieces, entire chunks of his body ripped or bitten off, and even his entire head cut off once.”

Celestia’s face switched from white to green as a visible look of disgust overcame her visage. “Oh my... you actually saw all of that?”

“Heck, I performed half those acts on him myself,” the Punisher chuckled darkly, setting his duffel bag down and peering out in the darkness for any signs of an approaching army. “Also, got another question for ya.”

“If it’s anything other than what you just listed out for me, go ahead,” Celestia replied.

“Is there any other particular reason Chrysalis activated the portal to pull Deadpool out now of all times?”

“I don’t see anything funny about pulling me away from my world to fix your screw ups,” the Punisher said, glaring at the princess with a scrutinous gaze. “I have cocaine dealers I need to kill, meth labs that need busting and gangsters that need banging... you know what I mean.”

“Well, there are actually two other princesses here that help me co-rule Equestria,” Celestia explained, uneasy under the Punisher’s intense glare. “Princess Luna, who is my sister, and Princess Twilight Sparkle, who is my student. Along with them are the Elements of Harmony, the greatest magical tool in all of Equestria, used by the Elements bearers themselves.”

“Lemme guess. They’re unavailable at the moment?”

Her nod was a good enough answer for him. Grumbling under his breath and wiping a hand across his face, he muttered, “And what gave you the idea that leaving yourself all alone while a frickin’ army is outside your doorstep was a good idea?”

“My student and her friends were needed in the Crystal Empire in the north. Twilight’s brother, Shining Armor, and his wife, Princess Cadence, were under attack by the revived form of Sombra,” Celestia said. “My sister had... unresolved issues with Sombra, so she decided to accompany the Elements as well.”

“Leaving you all alone.” The Punisher slammed his fist on the balcony railing, putting a few cracks in the stone. “Damn! Why would she do something so stupid?”

“Sombra and Luna used to... date each other,” Celestia mumbled, edging farther away from the Punisher. “The break up was messy. Ended with Sombra becoming a slave mongering tyrant and Luna later becoming a power hungry alter ego of herself.”

“Great. Just my luck that I ended up in a world as incompetent as mine.” The Punisher opened up his duffel bag and sorted through the wide range of guns at his disposal. Finding what he wanted, he pulled out a sniper rifle. It had decent enough range to take out any targets that approach the castle by the streets, and by attaching the night vision scope he had with him as well he’d be able to splatter the heads of any approaching forces with relative ease. Plus, the semi-automatic aspect with 20-round detachable box would make reloading and shooting quickly a breeze.

“So, are you just going to...?” Celestia waved her hoof at the strange weapon he just pulled out that she didn’t recognize.

“Listen up. Stay in the castle, tell the guards to be on lookout, and be prepared for any bastard that tries to poke his head in,” the Punisher instructed her, loading the sniper rifle and getting into position by the balcony. “Once I get a lock-on of Deadpool, I’ll take care of the problem with enough shots. Now, get moving.”

“Why? I still haven’t prepared any proper spells to counteract what Chrysalis could throw at me.”

“Because, they’re nearly here already,” the Punisher said, setting out the bipod attachment on the balcony as he stared down the scope at the walls of the city. “Assholes are near the walls.”

“Do you see Chrysalis with them?” Celestia asked, moving closer to get a look at the city wall. “Maybe Deadpool as well?”

“I have no idea what Chrysalis looks like, but I got Deadpool lined up nicely,” the Punisher said, his finger itchy to pull the trigger to its heart’s content. “Son of a bitch is out of range though. And... Jesus, you gotta be fucking me.”

“What? What could it possibly be?” Celestia asked, worry etched in her tone.

“He has a bazooka,” the Punisher replied, having the growing urge to facepalm. “The frickin’ idiot has a bazooka. Just great.”