my only addiction has to do with a flour tortilla.

Waking up hungry wasn't uncommon for Wade Wilson. In fact, it was an everyday thing. The first thing he did each morning – after doting attention upon his wife – was cook breakfast. Rarely did he leave the house in pursuit of it.

Today, it felt different. It was a pain unlike anything he had ever experienced. He needed food, and he needed it now. He couldn't wait. Without acknowledging his wife (or even checking to see if she was still in bed), he rushed downstairs into their kitchen before he'd bothered to put on clothing.

It wasn't a rare sight to find a naked Wade (or Jack) rummaging through the fridge in search of something to cook. The dogs followed him, begging for their breakfast, but the hunger was so intense that he couldn't be bothered to pay attention to them. When Zelda mewed at him, he shushed her and continued his search. Within a few minutes, he'd devoured half a dozen raw eggs and just as much bread. The yellow of the yolks stained his bare chest until it was washed away by the orange juice he chased his breakfast down with.

A part of him knew that this was unusual, even for him, but the overwhelming urge to eat everything in sight was winning out over reason. Weird even for him, Wade found that he was still hungry. His stomach was growling despite the large amount he had just consumed. Nothing else looked appetizing. What he really wanted was his favorite sore excuse for Mexican place: Taco Bell. "I'll die if I don't get my hands on a chalupa or Doritos taco," he said, to no one in particular. He reached down to touch the button on his felt to teleport right there, and that was when he realized it was still upstairs with the pants he'd worn yesterday.

He wasn't too far gone to realize that to go to Taco Bell he needed clothes, so he put those on without much issue. It was everything he'd worn the day before – everything – but he was too hungry to care about getting a fresh set of clothes. All that mattered was that he met the shoes and shirt rule for service. Or so he thought.

It was just after 9:30 when he teleported into the bathroom of the closest Taco Bell and walked into the main restaurant like it wasn't a big deal. The breakfast rush had passed, and there was only one other customer in line for food. He could wait, right? He wasn't in line for more than ten seconds before he started tapping his foot impatiently. "This is ridiculous," he muttered under his breath, shaking his head in disgust. It seemed as if they were taking a lifetime to get their act together.

While waiting for the person to get out of the way, he got a text message from Roxy, asking where he was. When he told her, she sent a response back, asking for him to get tacos surpreme and crunchwraps. He couldn't believe he hadn't thought of those before. Sure, he wasn't thinking about getting them for her, since satisfying his own needs was all he could think about, but he still replied positively. The last thing he needed was someone getting in his way.

When he put his phone away and realized the person in front of him was still trying to spit out their order, he shoved them out of the way. "You clearly don't know what you want, so let someone who does order, okay?" When the man tried to fight back and push him out of the way, Wade laughed. All it took was extending his hand forward to throw the man to the floor and secure his place at front of the line. "Okay. I want three chalupas, five Doritos tacos, five tacos surpreme, and three crunchwraps, please."

The cashier looked at him, dumbfounded. The words that came out of her mouth were not the ones he wanted to hear.

Sir, we're only serving breakfast.

Wade's eyes widened. "What do you mean, only serving breakfast? I came all this way, and I want my fucking food." Before the cashier could respond, the manager stepped forward and asked Wade to leave before they called the cops on him for causing a scene. This only made him laugh more. "Do you know who I am? Of course you don't."

It was at this point that he jumped over the counter. He didn't have his weapons, but he didn't need them against these people. He uprooted the cash register from the counter with little effort and threw it right at the manager's chest. He pushed the cashier out of the way and rushed into the kitchen area, knocking a few more employees into shelves when they tried to stop him, where two cooks stood with their hands in the air.

Hey, man. Don't hurt us. We'll cook whatever you want.

"That's the kind of customer service I'm looking for. Get cooking. As many chalupas, tacos surpreme, Doritos tacos, and crunchwraps as you can make. Chop chop."

He picked up a knife and surveyed the restaurant while he waited on his food. The knife in his hand did well to incentivize the cooks to keep doing what they were doing. He grabbed the largest cup they had to offer and poured himself some Baja Blast Mountain Dew. As he chugged it without a straw, he noticed a security camera in the corner. He hadn't lost all sense of reason, so he knew that he would be in serious trouble if anyone recognized him. A former cop holding up a Taco Bell? It would be everywhere, and he couldn't have that.

Given that it was a Taco Bell, finding the security system hadn't been difficult. By the time he'd destroyed the hard drives and deactivated everything, the food he'd asked for was ready. He grabbed his order that could feed an army and immediately tore into a chalupa. With that first bite, he felt the strangest combination of satisfaction and desperation. It was everything he wanted, yet he couldn't get enough. "Thanks, guys," he said, mouth full of food, as he dropped two one-hundred dollar bills on the prep table. As hungry as he was, he knew nothing in life was free. Maybe $200 wasn't enough to cover the damage or the trauma, but it was more than enough to cover the food. To him, that was enough.

He refilled his soda cup one last time before teleporting away.