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X-treme Wrestling Federation »   » Archives » "WAR GAMES" PPV RP Board
Why can't we be friends...?
Author Message
Doctor Louis D'Ville Away
Hello, my friends
The 24/7 Shot!



XWF FanBase:
Very random

(heel alignment but liked by many; has earned respect despite breaking the rules often)


#1
10-17-2014, 08:37 PM

"Unity is strength... when there is teamwork and collaboration, wonderful things can be achieved."

― Mattie Stepanek



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"The Beginning of a Beautiful Relationship..."


It's nearly dusk. The clouds hovering in the sky nearly gives the scene an old black and white feel. Nothing has color. The trees are dying, the leaves are gray, and the air is bitterly cold. The wooded countryside is broken in half by a single dirt path that leads up to a large abandoned warehouse. A few utility poles supply dim lighting up the road, barely increasing the visibility needed to stay along the path.

As the Doctor makes his way up up to the building, the silence from the dense forest is disturbed by sounds of "crashing" and "banging" coming from inside. It sounds like the place is being destroyed from inside out, but nearly hard to tell because that very ruckus is nearly drowned out by the echoes of loud music. Cymbals crashing, double picking bass, and death metal screams take over the land around this warehouse. A bright light from inside shows throw the cracks in the wood work and creates a glow around the building. The light flickers and shakes little shadows on the ground from the high decibels of music coming from inside. The Doctor approaches the large, sliding wooden door in the front of the building. He lights up a cigar and pauses a moment before he slides open the large door.

Morbid Angel is seen standing in front of a large stereo with the incantations of the devil growling and the drums like a machine gun. The guitars playing fast enough to start a fire without matches. Morbid stands swinging his head in a circle raising the devil’s horns with one hand and holding the Satanic fruit with the other!

Morbid stops abruptly and looks at the Doctor who in return looks back with a smile. Morbid does not break his glance as he reaches back and turns the music down and slowly walks over to the Doctor. Morbid approaches him and presses his massive chest muscles into his face. The cigar that was hanging from his mouth is now crushed up against his face and burning Morbid’s ample chest! Morbid does not even let out a whimper as the flesh is singed.

Morbid Angel- You must be Louis D’Ville…Word has it that you are a doctor of sorts…I, myself am a doctor of…well…sorts.

The Doctor steps back and pulls the mangles cigar from his mouth and dusts off his face from where the ash smeared. He pulls another from inside his jacket pocket, and lights it. He pulls a long drag from it and releases it.

Doctor D’Ville- Hello, my friend. A doctor of sorts, you say? I'm not sure about your logic, but yes, I am a doctor of sorts. You seem to give off the impression of an evil incarnate. How impressive.

Morbid Angel looks at D’Ville for a few moments and then dusts off his shirt.

Morbid Angel- I would like to think I am more than evil incarnate…after all I am a god! MORBIDGOD! And you so much want to be the devil…well, I can guarantee this to you. There is only one devil and you are far from the point of Azazel. Now, tell me why you think I chose you as my first round draft pick…I am interested to know if you even know.

The Doctor reaches into the inside pocket of his white frock jacket and pulls out a flask. He takes a few swigs, the smell reeks of scotch. The Doctor ponders a moment over the MORBIDGOD's question and chuckles a bit.

Doctor D’Ville- Address me and believe whatever you desire, my friend. I am not here to convince anyone who ... or what, for that matter, I am. I believe you chose me because I fit in with your favorite two words. Your team name and what seems to have become, our team slogan. "Victory Forever". Achieving that, would nearly require my presence on your very team. I've credited you with enough smarts previously, your first draft pick was the only one you could have possibly made with victory on your mind.

The two glare at each other as if to try and read each other’s thoughts. Both are well educated and both are armed with their wits. Morbid Angel believes the Doctor only wishes to walk a away with a "W" against Team Pryce. Morbid Angel’s only wish is to destroy everyone who stands between him and victory. What he doesn't realize, is that him and the Doctor share similar desires.

Morbid Angel- Trust me. If I could have chosen my self four times…I would have! You were the best offered at the time so I went with it. Why would I put some fucking scab like you on my A team? You aren’t even worth cleaning my fucking tools! YOU ARE NOTHING BUT A BODY! The more they hit you, the more I can hit them! You know what I think about you?

The Doctor smiles and lets the smoke creep out of his mouth and nose.

Doctor D’Ville- Enlighten me, Captain.

Morbid Angel- You are a ego maniacal fraud! You want to suck your own fucking dick if you could just so you can taste the victory of your own orgasm!…oh, and you fucking smell like a hookers asshole!

The Doctor chuckles aloud and lightly claps his hands together.

Doctor D'Ville- Hm. A fraud, you say? Talk about a broken record. Do you believe that you are the first one to address me as a fraud? I believe every single patient I've had thus far in the XWF has resorted to calling my practices fake and fraudulent. Spare me, Mister Angel. Spare me of your steroid induced ranting. Spare us all. As my partner in this match and the captain of this team, I've visited you first. I have a mission this week. Starting with you, I will meet up with each of our teammates and bring out whatever evil lingers inside of them. You, my friend, are the least of my challenges. You wear your rage on your sleeve and have no clue how to suppress it. Which is fine by me, Mister Angel. You are the perfect ammunition for this match. Notice I refer to you as ammunition rather than the actual weapon. Oh yes. Your feuds with Mister Pryce mean nothing to me in this match. I've never stood aside for anyone and I will not start now. I've made it very clear that the "lime-light" in this organization means absolutely nothing to me. I will do anything and whatever it takes to prove a point, make myself known, and leave whoever falls before me wishing they'd stayed at home. I would even sacrifice victory, as I have. Wins mean nothing to me, my Captain. Losses mean nothing. That is not why I am here in the XWF. As my name grows along with the shadow I cast across this organization, I'm winning my own war. When the competitors of this federation finally bow down and know who is the truest, purest form of talent here, I have won. Well, it would seem I'm already half way there. You on the other hand, have turned into a walking joke in this federation. Your constant claims of being undefeated. Your constant crying about the Universal Title. The nonstop challenges you place in front of all comers. No one seems to take you very seriously anymore, my friend. Including our current opponents. You heard what the sniveling Pryce said. I'm the only one who deserves any credit on this team. You see? You don't even strike fear into your opponents anymore. The credit I claimed from our opponents was fear. They can deny it all they wish, but I smell it. Looking beyond your lies and deception. Your moaning and false claims. You've become nothing more than a joke to any members of the XWF. If I was you, friend, I would lay off the juice and the death metal, get yourself back into champion condition, and prove all of the nay-sayers wrong. Go after Eli, win this title back you've claimed to have never lost, and silence them from mocking you anymore.

Morbid Angel reaches out and grabs D’Ville by the throat and lifts him off his feet with one hand and brings him in close.

Morbid Angel- Well then, I am more than satisfied with causing pain…YOU WILL FUCKING FEAR ME!

The Doctor smiles and blows a big puff of smoke in Morbid Angel's face. He coughs and takes a few steps back. Reaching behind him with the Doctor's throat still grasped tight in his one hand, he throws the Doctor across the room like he was holding a baseball.

The Doctor's body flies across the room. It crashes against several wooden crates and explodes into ashes. Morbid Angel rubs his eyes in disbelief and approaches the crates. He begins throwing the crates aside as if they weigh nothing at all.

"Over here, Captain."

Morbid Angel swings around and sees the Doctor standing on the other side of the warehouse, unscathed as if he just arrived.

Morbid Angel- You MOTHERFUCKER!

Morbid Angel grabs one of the large wooden crates and effortlessly throws it across the room hitting the Doctor. He then throws another, followed by yet another, burying the Doctor in a wooden grave.

Morbid Angel- Cocksucker thinks he's smart! I SHOWED HIM!

"We do NOT have time for this, my friend."

Morbid Angel now a bit out of breath, looks behind him again and sees the Doctor standing in the doorway in which he entered the building. The MORBIDGOD stares at the Doctor with a scowl.

Doctor D'Ville- This IS getting a bit old, isn't it?

Morbid Angel stands straight up and places his hands to his sides. He begins to slowly approach the Doctor once again.

Doctor D'Ville- I told you I have a mission here this week. The evil you present to even a supposed ally should make an enemy shake in their boots. Your hatred towards most things, your amazing strength, and your mindless rage are certainly some good perks going into War Games, my friend. You, were never a concern of mine going into this match. As I said there's no need to attempt to pull anymore darkness from you. My concerns lie in our partners. LH Harrison, Maverick, and Venomous. They all seem to lack the darkness and evil that you and I extract with every breath. Although a talented bunch, talent may not be enough for us to claim our "VICTORY FOREVER".

Morbid Angel continues to watch the Doctor like an eagle would it's prey from high above. His eyes follow the Doctor as he begins to pace back and forth, blowing smoke as he does.

Doctor D'Ville- Rather than us comparing our hardships back and forth as we've done, Mister Maverick. Why not focus on what's ahead here. If you'd like a private session with me in the future, just ask, because it seems you may be in need of one. I only compared myself to you because I can relate to everyone badgering you of false claims and lies. Don't believe me? As I've seemed to have already bored you, I won't elaborate. Just know that what I spoke of came long before your induction into the XWF, my friend. So looking passed my words and into this wall behind me is your choice. As for your constant bickering that I spoke of? I was referring to before the draft. The challenges you made with this "Klique", entering the draft, and defending yourself from those competiors who haunt you, such as X-Pac, Gator, Frodo, and Loverboy. Letting their words pierce your soul and scar your feelings as you've done is another a sign of weakness, in my opinion. You sit in the darkness of your room watching all of us from your television or laptop or "YouTube", taking notes from every word we speak... Well, continue taking your notes, my friend. The fact that you're disappointed by not being the number one overall pick in the draft is half insulting. Your NEARLY undefeated record of three wins an one loss makes me curious why you're not in a Universal Title hunt, rather than messing around with scrubs such as all of us in War Games. Perhaps, you should be excused from War Games to prepare for your next big bout against another XWF rookie or former wrestling big name. You should feel blessed that Morbid Angel even chose you in the third round and that Mister Pryce overlooked you for three rounds. If you would've been drafted onto Team Pryce, Mister Maverick, let's just say, a different outcome would be awaiting you around the corner. I appreciate your praises although I take them with a grain of salt. I do not need your compliments or your confidence going into this match. If you have something nice to say about me, please keep it to yourself. Praising me in front of everyone as you've done only makes yourself look even weaker. So, keep your head up, my friend, Mister Maverick. Enjoy your stay with this team and savor in the victory that's sure to come, because you will never again reach another pinnacle of success such as this one again.

The Doctor looks around behind him and notices that Morbid Angel has apparently become bored with the Doctor's ramblings. He finds Morbid Angel across the room lying across a bench press loaded with what seems nearly 700 lbs. Morbid grabs the bar and begins pumping out a few reps slowly, barely letting out even a groan as he performs the exercise. The Doctor chuckles a bit as he continues.

Doctor D'Ville- So as I take my leave. My next visit will come shortly. My other partners are in much need of my guidance to darkness. They're current ways, with girlfriends on vacation, with their wives, children... Thinking of close friends... BAH. All distractions in this war that is before us. One of those distractions has already been taken care of, allow me to rid you all of the rest. As for my friend behind me, VICTORY FOREVER, CAPTAIN!

The Doctor tweaks his hand a bit and the volume from the stereo turns back up to deafening decibels. Without leaning up from his bench, Morbid Angel holds his hand in the shape of "devil-horns" in to the air as the Doctor exits the warehouse. He begins down the path from which he originally came, onward to his next visit.

Doctor D'Ville- Now that I've hopefully stirred up enough "team spirit" to last us another day. It looks like Mister Theo Pryce is finally back from his little vacation. If I wasn't as observant as I am, my friend, I would've thought we were teammates the way you've placed my high on a pedestal as you've done. Singling me out as the best, most talented, well, only talented member of Team Victory Forever just gives me goosebumps. Well, not quite. It turns my stomach a bit as it did when my own teammate continued to praise me over and over. Please, keep in mind that I'm going into Wednesday without praise or respect for you. You're great time here in the XWF was long before my arrival here and I don't watch the tapes. I'll find out exactly what you're capable of when you display it in front of my very eyes. Who is Theo Pryce? Who cares? The former King of the XWF... A crown of thorns if you ask me. Look at the current holder of this crown. What does it even mean? Is it simply a title that has been given to the current favorite in the organization at the time? Because that is obviously Mister Peter Gilmour right now. I'm unsure of the source of his popularity, but that's a story for another day. As for your former accolades and in relation to my captain's previous ones, spare me, my friend. Constantly pointing out where he is wrong and where his flaws are is simply pointless. As you said, we're all delusional. "Team Delusional" as you would call it. Well, obviously... He IS abusing steroids and makes it painfully obvious that he does so. I believe he's constantly bleeding testosterone and he simply cannot control his voice or his actions. Delusional? A bit of an understatement, don't you think?

It's apparent that your offer to each of us the other day still stews inside your mind. I regret to inform you, but I honestly doubt that our captain is doing the same thing. Never once did I reconsider my position in the draft and never once did I wish to be placed on another team. Getting to know you a bit now, I'm a bit glad that pieces fell as they did. I may have said before that I had my targets placed elsewhere, but the Doctor isn't going anywhere. I'll have plenty of chances to continue tormenting a select few that I have encountered before.

In fact, now that I think about it... Perhaps it was not an attempt to screw over Morbid Angel, rather than a way to ensure that you have backup in case your own team fails to provide allegiance. Have you second guessed yourself yet? Gein apparently has. He seems disappointed the trade didn't go through between you and my captain. He seems, quite disappointed... Certainly him placing a bet against his own team, and that originally being his ONLY bet, isn't any lack of confidence on his part. Or perhaps he has already accepted the inevitable. The XBux never mattered to me, Mister Pryce. Placing all of our earnings on the line for this match, perhaps a way of intimidating us? A way to take our minds out of the game? Don't be ridiculous. We're all out for blood, especially our captain. His ways in the past of acquiring certain titles is certainly questionable, but that should be the last thing on your mind. If I were you, I'd bring a parachute to the rooftop Wednesday. Load one up and strap it to your back because you will be tossed from building. You will fall to the ground... And you will perish with the rest of your team. Just hope that you're one of the first ones to go because I don't plan on taking an easy way out of this one. Any opportunity I have to place any increased torment on someone, I'll surely take. You will regret your challenge soon enough, Mister Pryce. You will regret placing such a price on this match. You will regret every choice you made from the start of the draft. Where are your friends now, my friend? You've been abandoned already.


The Doctor tosses the end of his cigar onto the road and steps it out as he continues walking down the dirt road. He reaches the crossroads near where the Ex-Detective previously dropped him off, where a lone street light illuminates the intersection. He reaches into his inside pocket and pulls from what seems an endless cache of booze he keeps on him at all times. He removes the cap from his flask and takes several small swigs before continuing his journey into darkness.

**The above banner created by Azrael Erebus.
*Song "Why Can't We Be Friends?" by WAR via YouTube.

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