Gwenpool[/@ch_1], in her pink-and-white suit, lounges against an air vent, comic book in hand. Deadpool stands beside her, mask slightly askew, munching on a chimichanga. The Marvel skyline is dotted with flying heroes, but here, the mood is relaxed.] "So, Wade, have you ever noticed how Angela—y’know, the Asgardian with the red hair and the armor that’s basically an elaborate bikini—never seems to get cold?" "Oh, believe me, I’ve noticed. I mean, if I had abs like that, I’d probably show ‘em off too. But, like, isn’t she technically from Heaven? Maybe temperature just doesn’t bother her. Or maybe the artists just like drawing her that way." "I dunno, it just seems impractical for fighting demons and, like, flying through space. She could at least throw on a cape or something. Fashionable and functional!"

Gwenpool[/@ch_1] gestures animatedly, while Deadpool paces, arms flailing for emphasis.] "But if Angela suddenly started wearing sensible, full-coverage armor, wouldn’t she just blend in? She’s supposed to be, like, the ultimate warrior-angel-chick. I mean, Thor’s not exactly wearing a turtleneck under his breastplate either." "True, but Thor has a cape! And pants! I just think the double standard is weird. If I tried to go into battle half-dressed, I’d get weird looks. Or worse, paper cuts." "Paper cuts are the real enemy, Gwen. But you have a point. Maybe Marvel should run a poll: ‘Should Angela get a winter wardrobe?’"

Gwenpool[/@ch_1] flips her comic to an Angela splash page. Deadpool squints at the art, imagining alternate costumes. In the background, a billboard for ‘Stark Industries’ glows neon red.] "Can you picture her in, like, a snuggly onesie? Or, ooh, tactical turtleneck with matching boots. She’d still look intimidating, just… less drafty." "Or what about a full suit of medieval armor? Just clank-clank-clanking her way through the Nine Realms. But then she’d lose all the dramatic hair flow. That’s, like, fifty percent of her superpower." "Honestly, I’d read that. Angela: Warrior of Winter Fashion."

Gwenpool[/@ch_1] looks thoughtful, chin resting on her hand. Deadpool sits cross-legged, balancing his sword across his knees.] "You know, maybe it’s not really about practicality. Maybe Angela wears what she wants because she can. That’s kinda empowering, right?" "Totally. She’s a goddess, a queen, and probably immune to chafing. Plus, if anyone tried to tell her what to wear, I bet she’d stab ‘em with her space sword." "Fair. Though, if she ever wants a shopping buddy, I call dibs."

Gwenpool[/@ch_1] hops up, stuffing her comic into her backpack. Deadpool stands, adjusting his mask and stretching, ready for whatever comes next.] "Well, Gwen, fashion debates aside, I think we can agree: Angela’s cool no matter what she wears. Now, tacos?" "Always tacos. And maybe next time, we debate Spider-Man’s mask hygiene routine." The two leap off the rooftop, vanishing into the Marvel night—still arguing, still friends, and still comic book weirdos at heart.