That's the way to win, isn't it? I saw Kite's face when he was making all those broadcasts before. Killing everyone-- you remember. He was like a little kid, poking at anthills to watch the chaos. Pretty sure it pissed him off when people didn't react to his displays in the way he wanted. They might know a lot about us, but they still can't predict our every reaction. We just have to think of something that they'd never suspect.

[Deadpool sighs. It's hard to think about, but he just has to come to terms with the fact that all their lives-- all their fears and regrets and memories-- are nothing but an open book for the people in charge of this town to rifle through.

He's briefly reminded of when he was kidnapped and hooked up to a machine that proceeded to tear its way through his mental barriers and broadcast his most intimate memories. It's a violation, is what it is. As much now as it was then.

And what about Al? Despite his cheery disposition, he's gone through things that Deadpool can't even imagine. He doesn't understand how the kid can even stay so positive. He reaches out and rests a hand on Al's metal bicep.]

That doesn't mean we should have to put a brave face on all the time, though. You've helped me out a lot since we met and I've been really shitty about doing the same, I know. But if you ever need to... y'know-- talk something out, let out some inner demons or something... my door's always open. Okay?