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X-treme Wrestling Federation »   » Archives » War Games 2020 PPV Board
The Wizard is Ready!
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thewizard Offline
Wizard, The



XWF FanBase:
Kids, disabled people, casual fans

(fighting the odds; helps others; disliked by most adult male fans)


#1
05-30-2020, 09:53 AM

Mishmash I’m set for a Bash! At WarGames The Wizard is gonna make a Splash! Team Carnes AND THAT FUCKER MASTERMIND better be ready to get Trashed! The prize will be accolades and Cash! Oh yes, mishmash I’m set for a Bash!

But First.

Work.

The malaise of another work day blending in with all the rest. That blue vest. That conditioned response. That half-hearted smile. And, yes, that shitty pay. Gotta make ends meet, right? Barely.

I applied for the electronic department yet somehow found myself directing lost customers in and around aisles containing hygienic products. Not that I’m devoid of hygiene. I just never found myself debating the minute differences between various types of deodorants, shampoos, and paste for teeth. Not to mention loofahs.

Ugh, loofahs.

I longed for the pre-loofah days. They were so...simple.

“You have any blue ones?” a woman probably but not likely named Karen asked.

“Uhm,” I replied. I needed to act sure despite residing south of uncertainty.

“It’s a simple question?” the woman fired back before allowing me an opportunity to follow up my sound of confusion.

“I think these are all the loofahs we have…” I mean, I was pretty sure. I wasn’t entirely convinced. But common sense told me, regardless of how big the store was, loofahs wouldn’t occupy a space larger than a squared section in a singular aisle.

“You think? Aren’t you supposed to know?” She was getting testy. Loofahs were very important to this woman.

I pointed at the small, squared section containing loofahs. It was my silent, non-confrontational way of informing the soon-to-be apoplectic woman that particular area was the extent of our loofah inventory. She huffed. She stomped her foot.

“Are you mute?”

No. I was and remain, to this day, a person capable of speech. I was simply attempting to prevent the situation from escalating. Which, in a weird way, seemed to gaslight her fury.

“Well, this is totally unacceptable. Why can’t you give me a straight answer? Are you stupid? All I need is a blue loofah!”

I didn’t understand why she had to have a blue loofah. What was wrong with peach? Pink? Purple? Beige? WHY BLUE?

“That’s it, I’d like to speak with your manager.”

And there it was. The rumors were true. Stereotypes exist for a reason, people.

“He’s at lunch.”

The woman’s eyes flared. Flames shot from her nostrils. Shit got real.

It was one in a number of lamentable instances I dealt with on a daily basis. Yes, my job sucked. I suppose that’s the norm for most people in this prison we call society. A society where petulance is rewarded. As evidenced by the box of loofahs in my backseat. Loofahs that were tossed to the floor by the angry woman. Loofahs that were considered contaminated by the store. Loofahs that came out of my impending paycheck. Loofahs that were now, somehow, mine.

Work can sometimes break an individual. As human beings, we need an outlet. A realm in which we make decisions. We take charge. A realm where we enjoy a form of control.

I had my realm.

The Woods of Elderdom.

“Guile’s Theme” cranked up inside my apartment as I slid those gray stockings over my legs. I threw on my gray robe. Slipped on those gray shoes. Attached my magical, gray beard. I threw on my gray hat and snared the mystical staff.

Staring into the mirror, I swelled with pride. I was no longer a low-level employee. I was The Wizard.

-----

Marching through the Woods of Elderdom The Wizard carried his staff along with a box of loofahs. He located his favorite tree named Jamal.

“Hello, Jamal. A fine evening, isn’t it?” The Wizard spoke while staring into the sky contaminated by manufactured clouds. A few stars remained visible. The ones which shone brightest.

“What’s that, Jamal?” Jamal’s branches swayed in the night breeze. “Ah yes, the stars are a metaphor for WarGames. Good call, brother Jamal. Only the strongest, the brightest will receive recognition at XWF’s WarGames. You truly are an observant tree.”

The Wizard dumped the loofahs out at Jamal’s base. He picked through them with his feet, kicking and knocking them around. A pause and a sigh later, he looked at Jamal with more than a hint of irritation.

“NO, Jamal. We do NOT have any blue ones? Geez. What’s so great about a blue loofah, anyway?”

Jamal seemed to groan as The Wizard slipped a loofah over his lowest branch. “Oh be quiet, Jamal. I’m doing this to mark the quickest, most efficient route to safety should another dangerous situation arise.” He paused, checking out the work. “Besides, it gives you character. Some might even call it panache.”

Jamal’s protesting ceased. The Wizard tossed the loofahs back in the box and walked down his favorite trail, placing loofahs around low hanging branches in a concerted effort to mark the getaway trek.

The spacing increased the further he went. The Wizard hadn’t really done any math on how many loofahs it might take to cover every branch along the way. So, as the box emptied and the path continued, he realized he may have been a bit too generous early on. It was a tenuous moment of brevity. Reaching the end, the number of loofahs sufficed. A final, beige loofah found its way along the branch of a small tree.

Casting a gleaming eye backward, The Wizard tossed a nod of achievement. He was proud of his work. The trees all seemed to wave their loofahs at him.

“You’re welcome, friends.”

And then, noise. Corruption. The Woods of Elderdom’s serenity soiled. The Wizard spun around, gripping his mystical staff. His eyes narrowed. His beard wiggled.

“They’re back.”

-------

It’s tough facing a stacked deck. Sure, I have a team. YES, I KNOW THIS. But, do I REALLY have a team? We’re called Team MishMash for fuckling’s sake. It doesn’t exactly SCREAM cohesion.

I’m an unknown. An unfamiliar face. Difficult to trust. Easy to betray.

Yes, these are truths. Truths that evolve into the longest of odds.

But that’s okay.

Because I’m The Wizard.

A Wizard has MANY tricks. An entire bag, some might say. When facing my treacherous foes, I’ll deploy the art of MISDIRECTION. It’ll have Hanari Carnes’ head on a swivel.

Hanari Carnes. The name of a tryhard, in my humble, wizardly opinion.

If placed in a situation where I’m outnumbered, I’ll outrun my opponents, much like former cowboy star Felix Jones would outrun the competition en route to a 100+ yard kick off return. There’s no way Boris or Red X could keep up with my CAT-LIKE speed.

Should the situation arise where I’m surrounded and hopelessly outgunned, then I may be forced to utilize some of my magical powers by creating a giant cloud of MYST. With enough myst I should be able to confuse my opponents enough to regain the upper hand. Keep in mind this would only be used in the Gravest of situations.

And, oh, I don’t know, if some weirdo named Liam came my way I might rape his ear canals with the horrific music of Martina McBride. Perhaps the deadliest weapon of all.

All of these tricks. All of these tactics. All of these weapons thrust forward and dedicated to vanquishing each and every member of the opposition until one remains – MASTERMIND.

THAT’S RIGHT MASTERMIND.

The people that run XWF aren’t stupid. It’s no coincidence that I’ve been placed on the team opposite yours. They are going to give all the WIZARD FANS what they desire...a beatdown. I’M COMING FOR YOU MASTERMIND. YOUR MIND WILL BE MASTERED. I WILL REDUCE THAT MASTERFUL BRAIN OF YOURS INTO A HIDEOUS PILE OF MUSH. When this is all over you will no longer be called MASTERMIND. Instead, people will refer to you as…





MASTERBATOR





Okay, so that was lame. But you get the point. MASTERMIND, I’M GONNA KNOCK ALL THAT MASTERY OUT OF YOUR BRAIN.

WarGames. The Nation’s Capital. THE WHITE HOUSE. It’s all a tremendous setting for a breakout performance. Team MishMash may be a hodgepodge of unaligned personalities, but that isn’t necessarily a recipe for disaster. Sometimes the greatest triumphs stem from impromptu hookups.

And, even IF teamwork boils down into a dilapidated mess...the beauty of WarGames is that, when push comes to shove, we...as individuals, control our own fate. SO...Team MishMash...Team...can’t remember the name, so we’re going to go with Mastermind...TEAM MASTERMIND...and everybody else competing in WarGames...get ready, because The Wizard won’t go down without a fight.

I’ll be appearing in Washington DC ready to fight. The rest of you psychos had better do the same...ESPECIALLY YOU MASTERMIND.

---

Indeed, they were back. The teenagers from over a week ago, back for revenge. Teenagers don’t like getting arrested. They REALLY don’t like being punished by their parents due to said arrest. So, they naturally lust for revenge. The Wizard, standing atop the hill, staring down at the very spot of their previous crimes and transgressions, noticed ten high school-aged boys.

They were pounding beers. They were holding weapons. They were firing one another up. A beating was brewing.

#WizardLivesMatter?

Apparently not outside the Woods of Elderdom.

“I’m six nine and four hundred twenty pounds,” The Wizard spoke to himself. It was an attempt at rationalizing remaining in position, taking them all on. “Myst, Cat Like Speed, Misdirection, the shitty music of Martina McBride...I have many tools. But...will they be enough?”

While the Wizard contemplated his options...his move was made for him.

“THERE’S THAT BITCH!”

All ten high schoolers stared up the hill at The Wizard.

“LET’S KICK HIS ASS!”

They charged the hill, weapons in hand. The Wizard turned and ran. He followed the Loofahs, feeling great relief he hadn’t allowed procrastination to bite him in the ass.

Through the woods The Wizard ran, keeping his eyes ahead, making sure he was following the trail of loofahs...a trail that would lead him to safety. The Woods of Elderdom, while completely familiar to the Wizard, contained a mysterious aura. An aura capable of confusing even the most knowledgable inhabitant.

And while The Wizard loved solving puzzles. While he was and remains a fan of the occasional maze. That night was no night for deviation. It was no night for dilly-dallying. It was a night for haste. And haste was made.

His giant, lumbering frame reached the enormous roots of Jamal. Pausing, The Wizard extended his long, giant arm, placing the silky smooth skin of his palm against the rough bark that comprised Jamal’s weathered exterior. He panted. He doubled over. He looked under his arm, at the trail of loofahs behind him. Silent. Vacant. Nothing.

“Whew,” he uttered. A word sandwiched between pants. “That was a close one, Jamal. It’s a good thing I marked that trail, otherwise -”

“Hey, dickbag!”

The Wizard’s moment of victory was stolen like a game-winning touchdown pass called back due to the bullshit that is instant replay. Standing upright, the hair on the back of his neck danced. His eyes widened. “Impossible,” he thought to himself. How could these cretins...these children know The Woods of Elderdom well enough to catch him.

Slowly, he turned. His eyes caught the teens and, his answer. They were holding loofahs.

“Thanks for marking the trail, dumbass,” one of the teens mocked.

“Yea, I thought Wizards were supposed to be smart,” another chimed in.

“And who the fuck marks shit with these things anyway? Did you steal these from your MOM?”

They howled with laughter.

The Wizard’s pride impinged, he began to swing his staff, hoping the act might turn them away.

It didn’t.

A loofah was tossed at The Wizard. Displaying shockingly quick reflexes, he smacked the loofah to the side using his staff. The teens’ laughter subsided. They threw another at him...again, he smacked it away. Then another – the same result. And another – resulting in the same conclusion. And, finally, a fifth loofah was hurled in his direction...with a spin, The Wizard’s sebaceous gut shook to-and-fro as his staff knifed through the thick air, slapping the loofah into the darkness.

In victory, he raised his staff. Five loofahs, all defeated. A great omen heading into WarGames. For a moment...however brief, he forgot about his current plight, directing all of his focus onto achieving victory at WarGames.

And, just like WarGames, initial victory was only temporary. Increased danger awaited in the form of other survivors.

Or, in the case of his current plight, increased danger manifested itself in the form of A BUNCH OF OTHER LOOFAHS.

They slammed into The Wizard’s body, sending the giant man stumbling backward. The teens, loofah-drained, looked at one another as if wondering, “Why are we throwing these things at this guy?”

And, more importantly…“WHY IS IT WORKING?”

In an attempt to regain control of their burgeoning masculinity, the teens raised their initial weapons and charged at the off-balanced Wizard. “Oh shit!” he exclaimed, seeing a certifiable beatdown charging his way. Turning, he took off...this time without the aid of loofahs to guide his way.

He burst through branches. He stumbled over roots. He stepped on tiny creatures. The Woods of Elderdom was left bruised and battered with The Wizard crashing his way toward an escape.

The teens remained hot on his trail.

His shaky vision detected nothing but darkness. The voices, the footsteps...they drew closer. The Wizard knew he didn’t have much time. Soon they would be on him...soon they would unleash their juvenile anger upon him...soon his hopes for success at WarGames would be dashed.

Would his legs give out? The weight of 420 pounds is quite the burden for two legs to bear, no matter how thick. It seemed only a matter of time at that point. The Wizard would be caught, barring a miracle.

A MIRACLE IN THE FORM OF A CHEVRON SIGN.

There it was! Breaking through the darkness like a ray of light from the heavens! The Wizard was being called home...called to safety from the hellish consequences that awaited mortality.

With grit and determination, The Wizard convinced his aching, tired body to sustain. A few more steps. There was no way those kids could do TOO much harm to him in the parking lot of a well-lit gas station. Plus, if he did take a beating he could stumble inside and purchase some Slim Jims. So, not a total loss.

He picked up speed. His legs moved quicker than ever before. They trounced the ground with reckless abandon. He was nearly there. Freedom stood a few steps away.

A hand pawed at his back. OH SHIT...they were within arm’s reach. C’MON WIZARD, ONE MORE STEP!

He lunged forward and TRIPPED! The Wizard’s giant body face planted into the ground! OH NO!

A blessing in disguise! His body acted as a giant speed bump. The teens had no opportunity to stop...they all tripped over his massive frame, flying through the air and tumbling down the hill which fed into the gas station parking lot. Like boulders tumbling down the side of a mountain...they bumped and tumbled, rocked, and rumbled.

Only a sturdy force could bring an end to their tumultuous pain and suffering.

BOOM

They SLAMMED right into the side of a parked vehicle. All ten of them within seconds...BAM, BANG, CRASH, SMASH!

And then, silence. Followed immediately by groans and ‘what the fucks’. Their backs, legs, arms, and heads ached from the unexpected fall and subsequent crash.

One by one, they sat up, half feeling the unforgiving metal pressed against the back of their heads and necks. The other half facing the steel beast. A white bodied mechanism with blue and red flashing lights at its apex.

“Ah shit!” one of the teens blurted. Both doors opened, one easier than the other, its protrusion shoved a teen forward. Two uniformed officers hit the ground with their shiny boots. Within seconds they towered over the group of disheveled teens.

One spat. The other grabbed the buckle of his belt. They looked at one another before grabbing their cuffs and going to work.

The teens begged and pleaded. But, to no avail. Another night in jail was their collective, immediate futures.

In the distance, The Wizard stood, looking down upon his great fortune. A smile found its way through his amazing beard, which wiggled in an evening breeze. The realization hit. Victory can come in many forms – practice, hard work, talent, and, in this case, luck.

Before the cops had a chance to spot him, he spun around and marched through The Woods of Elderdom, eventually locating the pile of loofahs at Jamal’s base.

“You should have seen it, Jamal! One by one I took them out!” Jamal wasn’t buying The Wizard’s sophistry. “You know me too well, Jamal,” he removed the proud facade, “truth be told, tonight, it was The Woods of Elderdom that protected its protector.”

Leaning forward, he hugged the trunk of Jamal, saying, “No homo.”

Releasing the hug he looked around, taking in the night air and the sound of evening activity, which included sirens in the distance. “I’m going on a journey, Jamal. I won’t be gone long, but you guys will have to look after yourselves for a few days. If this journey bears fruit, we’ll all benefit.”

At that moment, The Wizard knew he was ready. There was nothing left in which to prepare. WarGames would receive his best shot. It’s all a man – all a Wizard could hope to provide.

Get ready, XWF. The Wizard has arrived. Bask in his aura.
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