This one-shot started out as just a little something about what happened to the label maker that Spidey Parker gifted to Fury in Season 1, Episode 15, because the author's sister keeps making the author watch episodes of the Ultimate Spiderman TV show and so the author wanted to write a little one-shot for the fandom, just for the helluvit.

And then Deadpool (that's me! but I'm writing in third-person right now, like a certain Doctor of Doom, who I totally stache'd, BTW) commandeered the story for his own purposes. You can be certain that he commandeered this story because the author hates writing in present tense and hates writing in first-person, and this story is written both in present tense and in first-person.

The author wants Deadpool to say that this is all Deadpool's fault, but it's not. It's really not. It's all on the author, I tell ya! And therefore, if Deadpool's mixed-up and OOC, it's ALL HER FAULT! I take no responsibility! I'm allergic to responsibility, it gives me a nasty rash in areas that we do not speak of.

Heheheheh emoticon 0_0 It's mah Deadpool face!


You know this is totally what happened to the label maker

Fury stares at the label maker in his hands like it's a rabid hamster that just bit his middle finger off.

Damn kid, he thinks. Or at least, that's what he looks like he's thinking. He also looks like he's just thinking of just throwing it away again, but that didn't exactly work for him the first time now did it? Poor wittle (that's not a typo, people!) One-Eye can't get rid of a clunky old machine. Maybe he's cursed.

Curse! You have been cursed with a label maker that you can never get rid of! Even worse than a chicken! At least with a chicken you get eggs. And you can terrify Domino whenever you walk into the room with her.

Woops! Wrong continuity.

Back to the story!

Maybe Fury should just incinerate the thing, he thinks. Because you know that that's what he's thinking, because he's the Director of the super-spy super-espionage super-stuff corporation, and his job is neutralize threats.

And you know that label maker is a threat to his manliness.

Tucking the box holding the horrid contraption under his arm, Fury begins striding determinedly down the halls of the Helicarrier towards the incinerator (because of course the S.H.I.E.L.D. helicarrier has one of those, idiot! Everybody knows that! Where do you think they lock me up when I visit?)

And then he's almost bowled over by a streak of gold, red, and blue, which is totally unfair. You can't be both Griffindor and Ravenclaw!

"Nova!" Fury barks.

Ruff ruff! What, that wasn't funny? I should give up all my dreams of going into the comedian business and get my own talk show? Shut up you! You're just a text box who cameos in my comic book series. HAVE I MENTIONED I HAVE MY OWN COMIC BOOK SERIES?! And you don't! Haha!

"Sorry, sir!" Nova says, landing and grinning at him sheepishly. You know, I have never seen a sheepish sheep. Then Nova's eyes move (although you couldn't see them move behind that dorky red-starfish-clinging-to-a-gold-bell helmet of his—but the dorkiness can be excused because it gives Sam the abilities to breathe in space and under water and not get concussions when he's smashed through stuff, and those are abilities that I'd kill for—but Fury could feel the youth's gaze move, because he's not just a super-spy, he's THE Super-Spy) to the box under Fury's arm.

"What's that?" Sam asks curiously. Is that a glimmer of hope I see in his eyes?

Fury has the sudden realization that handing the label maker off to Nova will take less time than walking all the way to the incinerator, because Fury's efficient like that (no, he's just lazy!) so Fury says, "A present. For you," and shoves the box into Nova's arms.

Then he continues past the youth down the hall. How rude. You'd think that if you're gonna give a kid a present, you'd tell them Happy Birthday or something! Or give the kid a hug, geez.

"A present? For me?" Sam asks, grinning as he turns over the box to read the label (the label on the label maker box! Haha, get it? Get it? The label saying that it's a label maker?).

Sam pulls out the label maker and holds it up above his head.

Cue those three seconds of music from that video game with the kid in green with the medieval sword when he kicks open treasure chests.

"A label maker, huh?" he says, grin widening. "Cool!"

Sam immediately tears the box open and pulls out the label maker. Wow, the kid's excited. You'd think he'd never gotten a present more awesome than a label maker before or something. But you know that he has, because he's got that tacky suit and helmet, and those had to have been gifts, right? How else does a kid get a hold of those kinds of super-powered armor things, unless their dad died and they found it in a box in the closet or something?

"Now," Nova muses, turning the large gadget over in his hands, "how does this thing work?"

Ooh, I know! Pick me! Pick me!

What, this is supposed to be a scene change? &#$% you! I'd make the accompanying hand gesture, but a rabid hamster bit of my middle finger.


Half an hour later, and there is now a label on the wall that says, 'WALL,' a label on the floor that says, 'FLOOR,' and a label on the ceiling that says, 'CEILING,' and a label on the S.H.I.E.L.D. supercomputer that says, 'DOES THIS THING WORK?'

Creative, right? You gotta give the kid some credit.

"Ha!" Sam grins, holding up the label maker. "This is fun!"

He punches in some more letters and sticks a label on the chest-plate of his armor, which reads: "HI I'M AWESOME.'

Kid you stole my line! Give it back!

Sam cackles. Guess he's not giving it back. "Now let's see," he says, glancing around the inside of the Helicarrier. "Who else can I label?"

If you thought that the author made a typo and that Nova should actually have said: 'What else can I label?' then you were wrong. Because the 'Who' is definitely not a typo. Believe me, I know. I read the script.


Danny—the kid in green who doesn't have a medieval sword and instead just has glowy fists (bet he never gets lost in the dark with fists like lanterns like that, the lucky little bastard)—is sitting on the floor of his room and doing some kind of meditating thing-a-ma-jig thing, with his eyes closed and his legs crossed and his hands in lotus position—or maybe it was lupine position, I don't remember.

Don't use that tone of voice with me, I don't mediate! Do I seem like someone who meditates?!

WHY DOES AVRIL LAVIGNE KEEP COMING UP ON THIS PLAYLIST?!

"Hey Danny!" Sam calls, zooming by with his cosmic propulsion powers that cause that weird blue aura around his body—is it science or is it magic?! I can't tell the difference sometimes. I mean, Tony Stark and Stephen Strange have like the same facial hair!

(Everybody be jealous of their facial hair.) Who can remember which of them does magicky things and which one of them does the science stuff?

"Tag!" Nova says, slapping Danny in the back then immediately zooming away. Damn flying people who think they can cheat at childish games. There are rules, people! Rules! "You're it!" Like that!

Danny's eyes open in surprise, but as Sam flies away laughing, Glowy Fist just sighs and closes his eyes again.

"People have no power over you except for the power that you give them," he says calmly. Wow. Read that on a fortune cookie, did you?

I changed my mind, I like this playlist. Not exactly meditation music, but that's okay, I don't like meditation music anyway. Too much chanting, it makes me thing of magick people trying to cast a spell on me. So what if I'm paranoid?!

Seems like this Fist of Glowiness fellow should be more paranoid, though. Because if we circle around behind him, we can see that the Nova kid stuck a label on his back, which reads: 'HI I'M LINK.'

ERMAHGERD NOVA IS A VIDEO GAME NERD! Did we know that? I didn't know that! What, you say that he was sitting at Peter's house playing a video game with Luke? Dude, this is still Season One, they don't move into Peter's house till Season Two! Stop jumping ahead, I mean seriously, that's just lame.


"Raaaahh!" White Tiger snarls, tearing through the LMDs in the training room tiger-like agility and tiger-like deadliness, and it's all very sexy. "Raaaahh!" she says again (it's a roar, peeps, she's not praising the Egyptian god of the sun or anything).

"Hey Ava!" Nova calls, zooming with his crazy blue unfair flying powers that work in the air, water, and the vacuum of space. Bet his powers don't work in an actual vacuum, though. Vacuum. Vacuum Vacuum. I like the word Vacuum. V-A-C-W-M. Vacuum.

"Guess what?" Nova asks.

Chocolate with pear in it actually tastes like pear?

"Not! Now!" Ava snarls, slashing up some more LMDs which look like several of Spidey's animal-themed supervillains, but she's probably wishing they looked like the Nova kid right now.

"Geez," Nova huffs, tucking the label maker behind his back.

Sam, showing off that fact that you have a label maker was never gonna impress the girl. You're gonna have to do better than that. You should try being a badass mercenary. Girls love the badass mercenary's—trust me, I'm a badass mercenary, I know these things.

[Too bad he can't hear you, huh?]

GO AWAY TEXT-BOX HEAD-VOICE THING YOU'RE NOT ALLOWED TO APPEAR IN THE NARRATION OF THIS STORY!

Ahem, anyways. Back to what's going on in the Danger Room of the Helicarrier on Earth-Who-Knows-What-The-Hell-The-Number-Is. (What do you mean I can't call it the Danger Room?! It's not a Danger Room? Did the X-Men trademark that name or something?!)

"Geez," Nova huffs (yes, I already said that, but I figured what with my tangent you might have forgotten), tucking the label maker behind his back. "What's got your panties in a bunch, Ava?"

"Right now? You!" Ooh, angry kitty.

Nova dodges the LMD she through up at him (as in, she grabbed it in her claws and flung it upwards through the air towards him—she didn't throw it up as in vomit it at him. Yeesh, that's actually a disturbing mental image, even for me, and I'm like the Pharaoh King Prime Minister of disturbing imagery!).

"Fine, fine!" Nova says, doing something behind his back (suspicious suspicious). "I'm leaving! Geez."

The space-y kid fies down and hits her in the back before leaving, and she cries, "Sam!" in annoyance. What a little brother, right?

On Ava's back is now a label that reads: 'PMSING'

Nova, you better have a lot of chocolate ready on hand to mollify her when she finds that label. I've heard that chocolate helps—never works with the Black Widow, though, she beats you up anyway and leaves with the chocolate while you lie bleeding in the dirt.

Believe me, I know these things. I'm Deadpool. I know lots of useful things.

Like, did you know that 'glutton' is another term for 'wolverine'?

Don't call Wolverine that though, he gets mad. You wouldn't like him when he's mad.

And did you know that Luke Cage is a total glutton (as in: an excessively greedy eater and a bottomless pit)?

Yeah, neither did I. You learn something new every day, bubs!


Nova zoomed into the S.H.I.E.L.D. kitchen (because they totally have one of those) to find Luke rifling through yet another empty refrigerator.

"Where'd all the food go?" the Man of Power asked, standing up and closing the door to the fridge, scratching at his head like he'd just seen a banana shaped like a cat grow wings and fly awayyyy. "I thought that S.H.I.L.D. was supposed to be prepared for everything. And yet they forget to restock their fridges?"

[WE'VE BEEN SNOWED IN.]

"Wow, man," Sam says, dropping down to land next to Luke. "That sucks, man."

SOMEBODY GET THE WENDIGO OUT OF MY HAIR.

Sam slapped Luke on the back, shaking his head. "That really sucks."

[I'm not a Wendigo.]

"Yeah," Luke sighed. "It does suck. Tell the the boss man Fury that I'm off-duty in search of a sandwich, okay?"

Well you smell like a Wendigo.

"Yeah, sure thing!" Sam says, giving his friend a grin and a four-fingered salute.

[Only because I'm inside your head, and the inside of your head smells like a Wendigo.]

As Luke turned and walked away, you can see that there is now a label on his back that reads:

'HI I'M HUNGRY'

I'm pretty sure we're not allowed to bicker childishly in the narration.

[Since when have rules and laws ever stopped us before?]

Word.

Now, hold tight, folks, while we take another one of those short vertical line breaks that take place where the commercial would be if this was a TV show.

Lucky for all of you, this is a fanfic and not a TV show, so instead of annoying commercials that tell you how you can be prettier and happier and thinner and younger if you just BUY THIS PRODUCT, you just get a thin vertical line and this short political commercial:


VOTE DEADPOOL FOR HOKAGE! I WILL LEAD THE KONOHAGUKURE TO ULTIMATE NINJA GLORY!

Warning:Anybodywhodoesn'tvoteDeadpoolwillbeKwordedtodeathwithsharppointyswordsandchoppedintopiecesandfedtorabidbunnies.


This next part of the episode begins abruptly with the one and only Ultimate COPYCAT Spiderman sitting on the ceiling in a red suit with black and white eyes and THAT'S MY LOOK YOU #%$^$!

And you know what the worst part is? PEOPLE KEEP THINKING I'M SPIDERMAN NOW. This guy is just ruining my reputation! That #$&$ing $$%*$ %$#$^! I will un-alive him one day. When somebody pays me good money to do it.

Spiderman's eyes widen. Ooh, there's a shiny aura around his head! "Spidey sense!" he cries.

You don't think he can hear me threatening him, do you?

Arachnid Kid glances around wildly, looking for the danger, but—WHAM!

What good is a spidey sense if it doesn't let you know where the danger is coming from, huh? Because Spidey just totally got pwned by Nova slamming into him from behind.

"Nova!" Spidey exclaims as he slams into the floor, Nova on top of him.

Ooooh, love on the battlefield.

[Spidey can do better.]

Wait, you're not a SpideyPool fan are you?!

"What was that for?" Spidey complains, pushing the space-y kid away from him and getting up, eyes narrowed.

"Sorry!" Nova says, brushing himself off. "But the reason I fly near the ceiling is so that I don't crash into people! I wasn't expecting you to just be hanging out on the ceiling, you know!"

"And where else would I be hanging out?" Spidey points out.

Ha! I get it! 'Cuz he was hanging from the ceiling! Nice one, Spidey. I gotta meet this kid face-to-face sometime, he shows potential to be amazing like me. I must be his idol or something. I mean, he's got the suit, he's got the puns and the one-liners, he's got the gymnastic moves though they aren't quite as awesome and unpredictable as mine. All he's missing is the pouches. Do you think he has a voice in his head too?

[What voice in your head? I'm pretty sure there's no voice in your head in this universe.]

YOU'RE A %$&*ING PARADOX!

"Uhh," Sam says, giving an awkward grin and trying to shove his hands in his jeans pockets, only to find that he's not wearing jeans and doesn't have pockets, and just ends up looking even more awkward. "Your bat cave?"

Ah, Nova. Always loved that kid. You think he misses me? You think any of the team misses me? Aww who am I kidding, why WOULDN'T they miss me? They love me. Everybody loves me!

Swaying to my own sound, flashes in my face now, all I know is everyyybodyyy loves meee, Everyyyybodyyyy looooves meeeee!

Spidey just levels Nova with a look. "Really?" he asks flatly. "Bat cave?"

And now we see one of Spidey's imagination thingies, where a chibi version of himself is hanging from the ceiling with a bunch of bats, wearing a black cloak, and then the bats take off and Spidey tries to fly off with them and his flapping his arms but he just falls and makes one of those shrieking moneky noises as he lands in bat guano. You call bat shit guano, right?

If I'm batshit crazy, does that make me guano crazy?

"Okay, so that was bad," Nova relents (you think?), raising his palms placatingly. "Um. Sorry?"

Spidey just stares at him flatly some more, and his eyes are narrow D's that were kicked in the back and then run over by garbage trucks.

"I'll just, um, go," Nova says, zooming off into the air and down the hallway.

Spidey sighs and turns around, and—hey, there's a label on his back! It reads:

'I'M A MENACE TO NEW YORK CITY'

Ha! I taught Nova well, it seems. I'm so proud I could cry. Seriously, I'm sniffling right now and wiping at my eyes. This is a beautiful moment.

Let's go see what label Sammy sticks on Coulson! This is gonna be good, I can tell.


"Hey Coulson!" Nova calls, running up to him and slapping him on the back in a friendly manner that would have been totally suspicious if he wasn't such a friendly person.

And any suspicion that Coulson might have had was immediately forgotten when Nova asks, "Have you seen Captain America lately?"

Agent Phil's eyes go wide and he starts practically jabbering about Steve Rogers—it's really pathetic, actually, I mean Coulson is like the head of Captain America's fanclab—and hey, I'm as much a fan of Steve as the next guy, but this guy Phil just takes things way too far.

I'm pretty sure he's a stalker or something, it's really creepy—he has posters of Steve in his bedroom, and he used to have a bunch of limited edition action figures, but I kind of stole them before I left S.H.I.E.L.D. and sold them on the internet for lots of money. Money money money. You should've seen how much I got for those! I was sleeping beneath piles of money for months!

Needless to say, Coulson kind of hates me now, which I think is really unfair because I totally did him a service by saving him from the embarrassment of Steve actually figuring out about that collection, and boy, if that had happened Coulson would've wanted to be un-alived on the spot.

Ugh, this conversation with Coulson ranting about Steve is SO boring. Really, you should worship me for editing it out and not making you listen to it.

Instead, let's creep around and take a peek at the label on Coulson's back.

'KICK ME'

Ahahahahahahahah! Oh, my friend, that is too great! Too great! Ahahahahah! So tempting! Can I kick him? I wanna kick him in the tushy!

WHAT DO YOU MEAN I'M NOT ACTUALLY PART OF THIS STORY?! I'm narrating, aren't I?!

No, LOKI DID IT! I swear! I was playing pool with the dead! Seriously! Did you know that Hela is really hot? We're talking hot like that green wasabi stuff that makes your eyes tear up hot.

Oh look at the sexy album cover! Today's pop, people, get it new and fresh like clothes washed with those laundry detergents they're always advertising! Use this detergent to get all the blood stains out of your suit!

Nahhh, that's why I wear the black and the red.

$*^&%, how long is Coulson gonna go on?! Somebody shoot me in the head, and if I wake up before he's done, shoot me again!

Ugh, where the hell's my mind-gun?

Aha! There it is! Gotta love the ability to pull huge random weapons out of seemingly nowhere—professional party trick, I'm tellin' ya.

BLAM!


OwIe. MoMmY mY hEaD hUuuuuurts. Somebody kill the ninjas!

Oh, wait. It wasn't ninjas, was it?

Hey, there's my buddy Nova with his label maker again! And now he's... in Avengers Tower? When did that happen? Where's the person who shot me in the head I need to shoot them!

Oh, heheheh. It was me, wasn't it? Well, that won't do.

BLAM!

Ouch! My footsy! That's worse than a stubbed toe, I'm tellin' ya!

Lucky Nova didn't hear that. Now he's creeping through Avengers Tower—they must be off on a mission or somethink—notice the way I said that and how I just informed ya that the Avengers aren't here and are conveniently off on a mission somewhere.

Aaaand Nova is head towards... the armory! I called it!

Waaaiiiiiit a moment. Not all the Avengers are off on a mission, apparently, cuz Thor's hammer isn't there and neither is Tony's sexaaayy suit, but Cap's shield is there.

"Heheh," Nova snickers. "Gotta get this done fast and get out before Steve gets back from his conference with Fury..."

Clever exposition, authoress. Really. Do you guys realize that you're reading a fanfic? Did I just ruin the story magic for you?

I HOPE I $%&^*ING RUINED IT! You people take waaaayyy too much delight in our pain. AND NO MATTER HOW MANY VERSIONS OF MYSELF I KILLED I COULDN'T MAKE IT STOP.

Soooo, here I am! Narrating a story where Fury gave Nova a label maker and Nova is now using that label maker to—

NO.

No no no no no! What are you doing?! You're making me quote Loki from the "Thor" film, damn you!

Nova just stuck a label on Cap's shield and then flew away.

Nova just stuck a label on Cap's shield that says: 'FREE'

YOU CAN'T DO THAT TO STEVIE HE'S LIKE MY IDOL! Even though I'm Canadian sometimes! (Am I Canadian in this Universe? Mehhh, who cares—you don't have to be American to love Captain America! He's, like, the Good Guy Boy Scout of the Marvel Universe—even the villains love Captain America!)

I'm having a Watcher conundrum. Do I interfere with a story I'm only supposed to be narrating? What does the manual say?

Aww, SCREW THE MANUAL! I won't stand for this! Even people who don't have the luxury of morals know that you can't put a FREE sign on Cap's shield!

^*$&% it. Good thing I have my own label maker, huh? Watch this.

I enter the story via my awesome fourth-wall-breaking powers that you know are driving you absolutely nuts right about now—if they weren't driving you nuts before, of course, I'm not that much of a gentleman—and I walk with pride and purpose to Captain America's shield, take out my lable maker, punch in three letters (M-O-D, except not in that exact order, duh!), and stick the new label right after the label that Nova stuck on.

And now Steve's shield reads: FREEDOM.

Whoever told you I was a completely bad guy just cuz I k-word people for money?!


Hey, authoress? Can we leave the fic here and not have a completely lame ending this time?


This story was supposed to be about the Spiderman and his team, but it ended up being almost all Deadpool. He took it over and the author could do nothing because he stole Loki's magical Glowstick of Mind Control and somehow figured out how to use it.

[Insert a witty one-liner accompanied by maniacal laughter here]