The invitation had come as a surprise. One minute he was out doing a circuit of the grounds, hoping to i-spy-with-his-little-eye someone changing and the next he was stumbling back to his little campsite to a hand written invitation. The new...friend...he made wanted him to attend some sort of ball. And if there was one thing Wade Wilson loved more than anything, it was a party. And mag wheels. The party came with the added bonus of allowing him access to the inner workings of the mansion. It was win/win.
So that night Deadpool phoned his best bud Weasel and had the little nerdlinger set him up with a fancy-shmancy tux and mask. Needless to say he was looking spiffy, albeit a little weird. Deadpool was the only person in the gym wearing a mask over another mask. The orange clashed horribly with the red of his work mask but he didn't care. He hadn't been too a ball since his prom and that had been short lived considering he left early to catch the powerful lightning bolt at the clock tower that would send him back to 1985. As he strolled into the gymnasium, he casually adjusted his tie.
It took only once glance around the gym to illicit a whistle from Wade, "Nice digs." He complimented. His eyes zeroed in on the food and he made a mental note to head there shortly. Right now, he had to boogie down.