Why Do Wolverine and Deadpool Keep Stealing My Clothes?

It started with my blue cardigan sweater from JCPenney. I woke up in the middle of the night and saw Wolverine and Deadpool yanking it out of my closet. They must’ve broken in. I pretended to be asleep. I mean, have you seen Wolverine’s claws? And Deadpool’s double katanas? Those spandex-clad psychos could’ve skewered me. Anyways, they ran off with my cardigan.

So, the next day, I triple bolted my apartment door so they couldn’t break in again. But they did break in again. I was watching Judy Wooddruff on PBS when they kicked down my front door, screaming like monkeys. They stormed into my closet and grabbed my other sweaters. My raglan sleeve and mock turtleneck from T.J. Maxx. I don’t get it, you know? They just ran off with them? What the heck? It’s hot out.

I tried to sleep it off, but before I knew it, they were kicking down the door again, hooting and hollering like monkeys. They dug into my bureau, stealing my short sport shorts.  When I’m not working as an accountant at H&R Block, I like jogging, which means I have lots of short sport shorts. They took them all. And my men’s league T-ball shorts.

Anyways, the next day, I screwed the front door back on, and was just getting ready for bedtime when Deadpool and Wolverine came crashing through my window. They flipped my bureau over and started taking my jeans. They nabbed jorts I wore to a Nickelback concert. They also took the baggy, bootcut Jnco jeans I got from Hot Topic, when I’d been going through a Goth phase in the 90’s.

Wolverine grinned as he grabbed a pair of acid-washed skinny jeans while smoking his stogey, dumping ash on my carpet. He’d been slamming bottle shots from the bottle of Stoli’s Vodka he’d taken from my fridge. That’ll teach you, bub, he slurred. And that’s when I realized Deadpool was taking my socks. The thin, Perry Ellis dress socks (that went well with my penny loafers from JCPenney), the Bombas ski socks, and a few purple ankle socks my ex-girlfriend had left and never picked up.

Anyways, a few days later, I was getting worried ‘cuz most of my clothes were gone. I still had a few sets of Fruit of the Loom boxer briefs, and some striped tube socks I’d gotten in a fire sale at Modell’s (along with my T-ball shorts). I also had a charcoal grey suit from the Men’s Wearhouse. Anywho, I was making a turkey bacon wrap, wearing my charcoal suit from the Men’s Wearhouse, when my door got kicked down again, and Wolverine and Deadpool came screaming in, yelling for me to fork over my charcoal suit from the Men’s Wearhouse. And I wouldn’t do it, and they started chasing me, slicing at me, ‘til I got away.

As I was catching my breath in a Dunkin’ across the street from my place, I was thinking, holy smokes, I need to move. Because otherwise, I’m going to run out of clothes. So, I packed up all my stuff into a suitcase, and I was heading to my 2012 Honda Accord when Deadpool and Wolverine saw me, and started chasing me, screaming: give us your clothes!

And I hopped into my Honda and drove off and stayed the night at a Ramada Inn off Route 50. Big mistake. Crack of dawn, I heard hooting and hollering outside, and Wolverine and Deadpool kicked down my door, except this time, they had Professor Xavier with them. He rolled in on his wheelchair, shiny bald head, and he gave me this nasty little grin and said (using his psychic powers to speak into my mind): your clothes belong to us, Phil. And that’s when I realized Professor Xavier was wearing my T-ball shorts and cardigan sweater from JCPenney.

So, anyways, I was running down the side of the highway, through the rain and mud, and Wolverine and Deadpool and Professor Xavier were chasing me, chanting: Phil’s clothes! Phil’s clothes! Phil’s clothes! And Professor Xavier must’ve been drinking with Wolverine earlier, because his words were slurring. He was shaking a bottle of Stoli’s as he told me he was going to break my legs if I didn’t fork over my charcoal suit from the Men’s Wearhouse.

And I ran into a Sheetz Gas Station, trying to hide behind the roller grill that keeps the hot dogs lukewarm. But then Professor Xavier saw me and used his psychic powers to lift up the hot dogs and form them into a giant cloud of meat that he hurled at me. Cloudy with a chance of meatballs, I guess? And Wolverine and Deadpool were screaming: give us your penny loafers from JCPenney!

But I kept running, and now I’m here, man, and will you please just rent me a room? One with a door that bolts shut? And a steamer for my charcoal suit from the Men’s Wearhouse? Thanks. I got work tomorrow. It’s tax season.