A burst of comic book energy erupts on the sidewalk as Gwenpool steps through the portal, her pink hood drawn up and dual katanas gleaming at her side. She glances around, instantly recognizing the 2D cutout world of South Park, her eyes wide with amused disbelief.
"Whoa, flat animation and fart jokes. Yup, this is South Park all right," she mutters, surveying the block for her mission target.
Mr. Slave[/@ch_2], flamboyant and oblivious, chatting with Mr. Garrison near the teachers’ lounge.]
Gwenpool strides down the hallway, her boots squeaking on the linoleum. She glares at Mr. Slave, remembering the infamous Lemmiwinks incident.
"Hey, you! Mr. Slave! Got a minute to talk about, uh, extremely questionable biology experiments?"
"Honey, I have no idea what you mean, but I always have a minute for new friends," Mr. Slave replies with a wink.
Gwenpool[/@ch_1] and Mr. Slave as Mr. Garrison nervously sips coffee nearby.]
Gwenpool folds her arms, her expression serious. Mr. Slave sits perched on the edge of a sofa, legs crossed, unfazed.
"Listen, I’ve read your file. The thing with Lemmiwinks? Gross. Literally the grossest thing I’ve ever seen—and I’ve met Deadpool," she declares, glancing at Mr. Garrison.
"It was educational! And magical! But mostly educational," Mr. Slave protests, shrugging.
"Oh, for the love of—can we not relive that memory?" Mr. Garrison groans, hiding his face.
Gwenpool[/@ch_1] paces, her hand hovering over her comic book panel manipulator. Strange pink sparkles flicker in the air, distorting the edges of reality.]
Gwenpool weighs her options, glancing between Mr. Slave and the fourth wall.
"You know, in any other universe, you’d be deleted for less. But maybe there’s another way. Maybe...redemption? Or at least less butt-related escapades?" she suggests, her voice half-serious, half-playful.
"I promise, no more rodents! At least not without consent forms," Mr. Slave says, a sheepish grin on his face.
Gwenpool[/@ch_1] stands at the edge of South Park, portal swirling open behind her. The boys—Stan, Kyle, Cartman, and Kenny—watch from a distance, wide-eyed.]
"Dude, did that pink lady just threaten to erase Mr. Slave?"
"More importantly, can she erase Cartman next?" Kyle asks, hopeful.
Gwenpool laughs, waving as she steps into the portal.
"Be good, South Park! And seriously, keep it PG-13!" she calls, disappearing in a swirl of pink.
Mr. Slave[/@ch_2] stands at his locker, looking thoughtful. A tiny crown-wearing mouse—Lemmiwinks—scurries past, giving him a wary glance.]
"Don’t worry, Lemmiwinks. I think our adventures are over...for now," Mr. Slave whispers, watching the mouse disappear into the night.
The world of South Park returns to its usual chaos, but with one less outrageous storyline—for the moment.















