EXT. INNER CITY ALLEY – MOMENTS LATER
The Ridgeline rips through the last stretch of cracked pavement, trailing a cloud of smoke, sparks, and cowboy curses.
MICAH (bouncing in the bed):"Goddamn piece-a-shit machine! I swear to Christ, when this overgrown metal horse stops, I'm shootin' it myself!"
He slams into a toolbox and nearly flies out. His hat's long gone, and his ego might be next.
JOHN (backseat):"Jake! That smoke ain't perfume! She's dyin'!"
ARTHUR (gripping the dashboard):"This ain't no plan, it's a suicide note!"
DUTCH (stoically, as usual):"Sometimes... a man's gotta ride through hell to find freedom."
JAKE (madly):"Hell's great this time of year, Dutch! Trust me—I've got Yelp reviews!"
Suddenly—ahead, a railing. The alley ends on a concrete ledge, a steep drop overlooking a cramped city parking lot. A sign reads:
🚫 DEAD END – NO VEHICLE ACCESS 🚫
JAKE (screaming):"SCREW SIGNS!"
CRASH! — The truck blasts through the railing, soars through the air, and SMASHES DOWN onto two parked cars below.
SFX: GLASS SHATTERING, HORNS BLARING, ENGINE CHOKING
The Ridgeline screeches to a final dying wheeze. Steam hisses. Metal groans. Then…
BOOM! — The hood explodes in a mini fireball. The engine is toast.
MICAH (from the bed):"SON OF A—" CRASH — he slams face-first into a crushed fender.
JAKE (half-laughing, half-insane):"…well, that's not gonna buff out."
Before anyone can move—THUD!A red blur drops from the sky and lands directly on the hood, crouched like a deranged Spider-Man with weaponry.
UNKNOWN MERC (Deadpool, duh):"Wow. Did someone order a flaming hunk of junk with four confused cowboys and one mentally unwell tour guide? Because—ding-ding-ding!—your Uber's here!"
JAKE (pointing):"Holy fuck… it's you."
DEADPOOL (blinking):"Oh. You recognize me? Wait—are you from the fandom forums? Or just another unstable fourth-wall breaker?"
JAKE (sarcastic, shocked):"Nah bro, I'm the bargain bin version. You're me on drugs. Or possibly better drugs."
MICAH (groaning, lifting his revolver):"Who in the unholy f*ck is this idiot?!"
ARTHUR & JOHN (drawing weapons too):"Jake, friend of yours?"
DUTCH (low voice):"He smells like sin... and red paint."
DEADPOOL (hands up):"Relax, Horse Avengers—I was hired. Davis. Ring any bells? Bit of a nervous wreck. Said y'all are wrecking the city, killing cops, and possibly changing genres too fast."
JAKE (to the others):"He's our ride."
JOHN:"…He's a freak in a costume."
DEADPOOL:"Rude. This is a tactical onesie."
The truck gives a final sputter. Everyone climbs out, dusting off debris. Jake hops down last, still in awe, brushing ash off his cowboy hat.
JAKE (whispers):"If this is a dream, I want it medically extended."
EXT. ALLEY – MINUTES LATER
Deadpool leads the group through a busted chain-link fence and down a tight maintenance corridor behind the buildings.
DEADPOOL (casually):"C'mon, boys. Safehouse just three blocks away, two sewer hatches down. Mind the rats—they bite like ex-wives."
SFX: POLICE SIRENS NEARING
As the cops swarm the crash site, lights flashing and weapons drawn—they find only an abandoned, burning wreck.
The cowboys?
Gone.
INT. NEWSROOM – CUTAWAY
A breaking news report airs:
"Gunmen in cowboy outfits involved in high-speed shootout—city-wide manhunt underway. Unconfirmed reports of vigilante intervention…"