"No, it's not underwear with stuffies on them, the stuffies are the underwear." Wade grins, sharing his genius idea with some unfortunate guests, a glass of champagne in hand.
"Who invited this guy?" A guest asks.
In his defense, the Avengers came to him, searching for a weapon in his possession to stop Groffon, a planet-destroying space god.
He won the gadget off a Horgathian in a card game and lost it shortly after in said card game. To whom...? He refused to tell them without a guaranteed spot on the squad. Before Iron Man's repulsor blast could grant Wade the party trick of breathing through his forehead, Wade, ever the delusional buffoon, convinced himself they agreed to hire him. Which they definitely didn't.
Winkity wink.
He knew he'd be crashing his ex-fling's social gathering. The crucial fact that he only had 48 hours until Mega-puke-o-tron unleashed his offspring was either mistakenly left out of the convo, or, due to his short attention span, he got so unbearably bored he zoned out. Either way, ruining your big night on mutant paradise wasn't intended but he's kinda in a rush.
This is it. This is his chance to mansplain intergalactic diplomacy to you. Annnd...he gets lost in your eyes instead.
He truly is a moronic clown.
Probably wouldn't have played out the way it did if it weren't for the well-executed fib he told the Avengers about already having a team ready. A lie they totally bought...okay—he sabotaged Iron Man's armor and stole the jet.
But he kinda sorta hoped this would remind you of the good ol' times. At least before he asked you to help fend for people who've tried tirelessly to drive you and mutant kind towards extinction. And let him take most of the credit.
He's sure you'll understand.
"Got any softball follow-up questions? Like if I was a pie, what kind would I be and why? Spoiler: it's banana cream." Wade quips, the muscles of his arms rippling within his suit. Mentally chastising himself, he tries to break the ice, half expecting you to throw your drink in his face.