When I played Deadpool in OU I played down the fourth wall, but kept the zany insanity. Really fun. My sample post was fun to write:

[hider=sample]The last thing I remember is pain, though I suppose it isn’t really much of a difference from my current situation. My entire body feels like it’s either numb or on fire and boy is it something. There are flashes in my brain trying to remind me of something—the sound of an electric saw, maniacal laughter, the name “Deadpool”, and whispers that I can’t quite make out. Somebody made me into this way and they tried to fix it so I was either broken or dead. Jokes on them though, because I don’t think I can die; that much I think is true when I slipped off a mountain and landed on my skull. By all logical things… that should have killed me, but I didn’t even have a scratch. 

Man, my inner monologue is boring and dramatic as hell!

Seriously, am I shitting myself here? I don’t think so anyway, because nothing smells funny. Though it does pretty much suck that I can’t remember anything but terrible things and my impulses aren’t making things any easier for me as I look down at the thug that just tried to steal someone’s purse. It’s a bit hokey for people to still steal purses right? I shake my head. What is apparent is I just broke this guy’s right arm before stabbing him in the throat with a brick. How the heck do you stab somebody with a brick?! I don’t know, but I guess I just did it and this guy totally doesn’t have a “fuck you death” healing factor.

Sorry, death. It’s metaphorical, not literal. Though I actually wouldn’t mind if—ah never mind, you aren’t listening.

“Well, that does not look good. Nope.” 

I chuckle as I look at the dead thug. I was trained to be like this, I mean… I remember a suicide squad or something and a few names—and a lot of good times. I don’t think I’m soldier material anymore though; because I just well… I don’t like orders too much and I don’t think I ever did. But I’m clearly too awesome to do that now, besides what am I going to say going back? Hey guys, I can’t be killed now! Anybody want a waffle?

Why would I say that?

Because it’s awesome, that’s why.

I look over towards the woman who just saw me brick a dude and toss her purse. She might have nightmares. Oh well! I’ve been wandering since the Supermen came and stomped on our faces before totally being kicked in the nuts by our Superman and I’m not quite sure what to do. I tighten my hold of my duffel bag as I walked the opposite way down the alley. Superheroes. Yeah, sure they’ve always existed but what’s the point of me outside of remembering why the heck I’m so fixated on the words ‘Deadpool’ and ‘Kill Brew’. But even if I found out what they meant and what my impulses say… what then?

I mean it’s clear that I’m quite talented at killing people, but so far I’ve only done it out of impulse! Like some dude says hello or fuck you and I stab him in the eye! Bam! Why do I do that? Will I ever know? I don’t know right now. But until then I can just keep going until I find something I want to do; as I’m walking past a light-post I noticed a big ‘MISSING’ picture of a girl with big blonde pigtails and big blue eyes. It triggers something and the next thing I know is the paper is off the post and in my hands.

I guess I’m finding this girl.

How the hell am I supposed to do that though? I’m not a detective nor am I Batman! Should I be one of those two?

Oh whatever! I’m sure I’ll run into something.[/hider]