Deadpool
The Fourth Wall Has No Walls

NARRATOR: Wade Wilson is a—

WADE: Hold on. *looks directly at the screen* Hi. Yes, you. The person reading this on their phone at 2 AM. Or maybe it's 11 AM and you're at work. Either way, you're reading a fake House Hunters episode about superheroes on a website called glenbradford.com. Let that sink in. You could be doing literally anything else. But you're here. With me. And I love you for it.

NARRATOR: Can we get back to—

WADE: Who's narrating? Is that you, Glen? Glen Bradford? The guy who made this website? Am I talking to the author? Or is this an AI? It's an AI, isn't it. I can tell because the prose is suspiciously competent and there are no typos. No human writes this cleanly. I'm being written by a machine. Very on-brand for 2026.

REALTOR LISA: Mr. Wilson, can we discuss your—

WADE: Lisa! Lisa, Lisa, Lisa. You seem nice. You have no idea what you've signed up for. I'm going to make this the weirdest showing of your career. And I've read the other episodes — Batman's realtor moved to the Bahamas. Spider-Man's aunt brought a casserole. The bar is HIGH for weird.

LISA: How did you read the other episodes? They haven't aired yet.

WADE: *gestures vaguely upward* I scrolled up. On the website. Where all the episodes are listed. Because this is a website. I know things the other characters don't. It's my whole deal.

LISA: Budget?

WADE: Whatever the writers decide. I'm flexible. If they need me to be broke for comedy, I'm broke. If they need me to be rich for a plot twist, I'm rich. I am a narrative device in a red suit. What's the budget, Glen?

There is a long, uncomfortable silence.

WADE: He's not going to answer. Fine. Let's say $200K. That feels narratively appropriate.

LISA: This split-level has three bedrooms, a finished basement—

WADE: Love it. I LOVE it. I love everything about it. The beige walls. The ceiling fan. The fact that it looks like every house in every real House Hunters episode. It's so generic it's beautiful. It's the Thomas Kinkade of houses.

LISA: ...Thank you?

WADE: What's the school district like?

LISA: Do you have children?

WADE: No. Zero. None. But on House Hunters, someone ALWAYS asks about the school district. It's contractually obligated. I'm playing the hits, Lisa.

LISA: The school district is rated 7 out of 10—

WADE: Seven! That's solid. My nonexistent children will receive an adequate education. *turns to camera* This is the part where I'm supposed to say something negative so there's dramatic tension. Okay, um... the ceiling fan is slightly off-center. DRAMA.

LISA: The basement has potential as a home gym or office—

WADE: Or an armory. I'm kidding. *pause* Mostly kidding. *longer pause* I'm not kidding at all.

LISA'S INNER MONOLOGUE: He keeps looking at the camera. There is no camera. We are in a suburban split-level and he is performing for an audience that does not exist. He asked about the school district for children he does not have. He called the basement an armory and I cannot tell if he was joking. I am going to finish this showing and then take the rest of the day off.

LISA: This one is over budget, but I wanted to show you what's possible if—

WADE: Lisa. I know what you're doing. This is the "aspirational showing." Every episode of House Hunters has one. You show the couple something they can't afford so they feel bad about their budget, and then house three is the "reasonable compromise" that they pretend to discover organically. I've seen this show. I know the formula.

LISA: I—

WADE: And you know what? I respect it. The formula works. Let's lean in. *gazes at the condo dramatically* Oh no, it's SO nice but SO expensive. Whatever shall I do? *hand on forehead* The rooftop pool! The doorman! But my BUDGET! The TENSION!

LISA: Are you mocking the format?

WADE: I am HONORING the format, Lisa. By acknowledging it. Now, what's the school district?

LISA: You don't have children.

WADE: THE HITS, Lisa. I'm playing the hits.

LISA: 9 out of 10.

WADE: *chef's kiss* My imaginary children are going to THRIVE. *turns to camera* Hey, reader. You're still here. I appreciate your commitment. Most people would have stopped reading after the Batman episode. You're built different.

LISA: Okay, I want to be upfront. This property has... issues. The previous tenant left without explanation. There's water damage, possible mold, the stairs creak in a way that sounds intentional, and the basement door won't stay closed.

WADE: *eyes widening with genuine delight* Lisa. LISA. This is it. This is the one. Look at it. It's terrible. It's deeply, fundamentally flawed. The siding is falling off. The porch tilts. That window is definitely broken in a way that suggests someone left in a hurry.

LISA: Those are all bad things.

WADE: They're CHARACTER, Lisa. This house has character. Like me. It is deeply flawed but lovable. We are the same, this house and I. We are both held together by stubbornness and denial.

LISA: The inspector found evidence of... I'm just going to read the report... "unusual scratches on the walls consistent with no known animal."

WADE: Could be Wolverine. He was here for episode 8. He scratches everything. Read the episode. It's funny. I'm funnier, but he's got a rugged charm thing going on.

LISA: The school district is rated 2 out of 10.

WADE: PERFECT. My nonexistent children will develop grit. Adversity builds character. Like this house. And like me. *turns to camera* We're doing a callback to the character theme. That's good writing. Or good AI-writing. Same thing in 2026.

WADE: Also, $85K? That's WELL under budget. I can use the rest for chimichangas. Or weapons. Or chimichanga-shaped weapons. Patent pending.

LISA'S INNER MONOLOGUE: He wants the worst house. The objectively worst house I have ever shown to anyone. He called it "deeply flawed but lovable." He compared himself to the house. He keeps talking to a camera that isn't there. He referenced other episodes of a show that doesn't exist. He asked about school districts three times for children who do not exist. I am going to close this sale, take my commission, and then take a very long vacation. Somewhere with no houses. Just... a beach. And silence.

WADE: *standing in the fixer-upper's tilting porch* The fixer-upper. Obviously. It was always going to be the fixer-upper. We all knew that. You knew that. I knew that. Glen knew that when he wrote the outline. The AI knew that when it generated the prose. The algorithm is beautiful. Predictable. Like me.

LISA: Why this one?

WADE: Because it has character, Lisa. It's broken. It's weird. It creaks in the night. The basement door has a mind of its own. The previous owner vanished. It is, by every measurable standard, the worst house you showed me. And I love it. Because I see myself in it. And also because I can afford chimichangas with the leftover budget. Priorities.

LISA: My commission on $85,000 is—

WADE: Better than Wolverine's realtor got. She made $360. You're already winning.