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X-treme Wrestling Federation »   » Archives » Leap of Faith 2020 PPV
Deals Made, Deals Never Broken
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Mr. Oz Offline
Active in XWF



XWF FanBase:
The IWC

(gets varying reactions in the arenas, but will be worshiped like a god and defended until the end by internet fans; literally has thousands of online dorks logging on to complain anytime they lose a match or don't get pushed right)


#1
07-22-2020, 11:25 AM


Oswald is seen by his converted camera, breaking things in his office that are in his mansion, trashing his things after what his "Broken" mind created had done to his clone.

"Motherfucker! MOTHER FUCKING ASSHOLE! I DON'T WANT HIM TO CONTROL MY GODDAMN BODY FULLY! YOU FUCKING PIECE OF SHIT CLOWN!"

He kept breaking things, from shelves, to pieces of his desk, chairs, computers, and keyboards. That is when one of his minions appeared as if popping out of the shadows. The shadowy figure seemed to speak into Oswald's ear. which caused him to sigh.

"You're right... you're right... I've got shit to do and I can't just stop doing my job."

He sighed, and as he walked, the shadowy figures began to help him undress, without him touching a single thing to undo his clothing. He had been clean, sure, but the stink of his "Broken" mind's creation still permeated his clothes, the smell of blood and cum staining the clothes. He was soon naked, and his body showed scars all across his body, for all the years of abuse he went through trying to become a wrestler. From backyard wrestling to the XWF. Even though he wore suits and ties, the creature that stood before the camera as he head into the master bedroom to go into the bathroom right next to it, is still heavily muscled, showing he was not slacking in his cozy state of employ.

His misty servants behind him, as if a bunch of black clad ghouls were performing every task he needed done. Hands claiming his body, washcloths scrubbing his body down with lavender and rose scented soap. His own hands moving to take care of his hair. Expensive looking shampoo and conditioner used to take care of his hair. Everything else taken care of for him, making sure every inch is cleaned before he walked out of the shower, and they began to dry him with a couple ties as well as making sure his hair is dried through the use of a hair dryer. Soon, he walked out, and the camera moved out of the way of everyone as they head to the move into the bedroom, where he stood as they began to dress him. His black boxer briefs made of the finest silk. Same with his socks. Soon his closet was opened, and inside was a majority of women's clothing and next to it, suits, shirts and ties. It took them about 20 minutes to fully dress him, and one of them had brought forth his cane, which he grasped it hard, and begun to walk out of his room and towards his garage, to pick out a vehicle he felt would be fit for driving.

He ended up picking out a 68 Dodge Charger, painted black. His servants opened the garage door and he zoomed on by them and they closed it, as the slowly diminishing amount of sunlight had revealed a small amount of the cars he hoards inside that garage.

He went into Chicago proper and began to drive around. His eyes darting around as if looking for something in particular. What it was, the camera was looking with him as well, and nothing looked out of the ordinary. A few minutes later, that's when Oswald stopped the car as he pulled off to the side. Oswald pulled out what looked like a cigarette but had a brown tint to it. The way he was looking, down the street on the same sidewalk he was standing upon, as he saw a young couple, somewhere in their 20s, arms around each other's waist. He watched as they got close, and their eyes met, they then saw the car. Both of them stopped, which he knew would happen, as so many have before them.

"Hello there kids! Can I help you with something?"

The woman spoke first, which was a small surprise. Though he lit his joint as she did.

"What kind of car is that, sir?"

After taking a small drag on it, he smiled and stood away, to stand next to them.

"Well, it's an old Dodge Charger. Older than you or I."

They looked at him and the male spoke first

"Can we look at the inside?"

He nodded

"Of course you can. If you're feeling bold, you can even take a ride in it as well."

He opened the passenger side of the car, and they could see the beautiful dark red interior inside, as well that there would be room enough for the three of them if they chose to ride.

"We'll take you up on your offer, mister!"

With that they slid inside, with the male being on the door side and her in the middle, making him chuckle as his information was correct. He moved to the driver's side and once everyone was buckled up, he shifted and pressed his foot on the gas, making them zoom out onto the streets. They were taken aback about how fast he was driving, just blowing by every street, every car. He drove them to an abandoned factory, and they got out, shaky from how many times they nearly died. He moved over to them, grabbing them by the waist pulling them to his body before chuckling.

"Don't worry. The adrenaline will burn out soon. I do have a game for you two, though, if I tell you my name, it means you will have to play too. My name, is Oswald Autem Sephtis. The game? You get whatever your heart desires. You want money? Ask a number, you will get it. Want true love? Say their name, and you'll have it."

He made several pieces of paper appear and before their eyes, writing began to form upon it. He smirked as they viewed the papers, and he saw her begin to write her name upon it, but the male was more hesitant, but eventually wrote his name down as well. Oswald pocketed the papers and laughed heartily.

"You didn't read the fine print, did you? Your souls belong to me once you die. Unimaginable amount of wealth for her, and true love for you, son."

He watched as the man looked at the woman and he would become so smitten by her that he grabbed her hand, while Oswald held out a wad of cash and she immediately brought her hands to it, beginning to count it all. She would find in her possession a hundred thousand dollars. Which would not be the end of her monetary gains, because when whipped out her phone, she looked at her bank account and saw there was ten million dollars deposited into it. She looked at the male she had been with, saw he was trying to give her a kiss and she immediately looked at him with disgust. Yet he wasn't taken aback by that. Instead he kept trying to be with her and Oswald laughed heartily.

"You didn't think she would reciprocate, did you boy? She only had eyes for money, son. Until you die, you'll always come for her, and until she dies, she only has eyes for money."

He moved into his car, and he left them standing there, as he went out to make more deals.



Back at the Sephtis Mansion, with Oswald behind his newly reformed office,
having been fixed after his tantrum about Panzer's meddling in the clones.

"So, I need to go down the list here. First up is Andrew Logan. Andy here seems like he's nothing more than a broken toy, trying to fix himself up, trying to become a better wrestler and person. Too bad it'll fail, but good for him. You're up against some heavy competition son. Not just me, but there's some names on here that I believe it will be difficult for even me to beat. It'll be quite fun, though. Quite interesting to see how you come out of this match. Will you be the last to win? Or will you be like the rest, thrown over onto the ground and resting underneath my feet as I stand tall inside the ring? This match will show who and what you are made of. Are you made of lonsdaleite, hard to break? Or are you made of cotton, only able to do so much? We'll find out.

Next is an old...friend? Old enemy? What do I even call you, Azrael? Because you may not know my name, but you should know me. I broke several of your teammates in my first pay-per-view, had so much promise and then I decided to follow a cult. Where I began my losing streak. So much promise, thrown aside. Now I'm back. You gave me my first true training tool, a fucking bear. Too bad I killed it. I have heard it has a child out there somewhere, who probably has a child. I wonder if they know how to speak by now? Maybe I should gather them, test on them. Turn them into hyper intelligent bears. Turn them, essentially, into bear versions of Gorilla Grodd. It's something to look into, isn't it? What is sad, is that you forgot the pain I helped put you through back then. Or maybe you blocked it out of your mind. This match is going to be no different. This time, however, I'm going to have a direct hand in your loss, when I toss you over.

After you, is someone named Scott Charlotte. I know as little of you, as you know of me. I mean, we seemed to agree on a couple things, as shown in other places we've talked. So you're not all bad. You also understand why I joined B. O. B. which is interesting. I do gather from how you talk, that you believe yourself some kind of philosopher. Here's one: 'New beginnings are often disguised as painful endings.'. On Sunday, I will do exactly that, for each of my opponents. I will bring pain and I will bring suffering to them. I will harm and break until they feel nothing but those things before I toss them over the top rope to my victory. That will be everyone's new beginning. Because you will begin to understand that I bring nothing but pain in my wake. I make you feel me with each punch, each kick, each slam. I will stay within your mind for the rest of your days, Scott.

Next up is Docktor Trust. there's really nothing that needs to be said. If I were to lose, then I trust in Docktor Trust.


He said with a snicker given after, smirking then, showing how little he thought of Docktor Trust.

"To Brian Storm I only say one thing: Pfft, yeah, I'll totally stay out of your way."

He shakes his head before reading the list, seeing the next two names, causing his head to ache, his hands grabbing at his head as if trying to crush his own skull, with him making pained gasps and sharp exhales, trying to keep himself anchored, to not let the "Broken" One come out to play.

"This is not your fight! This is not your fight! THISISNOTYOURFIGHTDELETE!THISISNOTYOURFIGHTTHISISNOTYOURFIGHTDELETE!THISISNOTYOURFIGHTTHISISNOTYOURFIGHTDELETE! THIS! IS! NOT! YOUR! FIGHT!"

He growled and soon he, with shaky hands, placed them gently upon the desk

"Ne...next is McBride. I'm no stranger to you, boyo. We've had several battles in our lives. One being for the Hart Championship, which you took from me! Ending my fucking reign! I HELD IT LONGER THAN ANYONE BEFORE ME AND YOU ENDED IT! This time, ohhh nooo... You're not beating me. The fuck you are. You will be fucking TOSSED WITH THE ANGER OF A THOUSAND SUPER MARIO BROTHERS SUNS! You I will take the utmost pleasure in fucking BREAKING so you best start drinking before the match so you don't feel a goddamn thing when I destroy you! NEXT!

Robbie fucking Bourbon. I don't recall ever facing you. All I have to say to you is, fuck you. Masked wrestlers are cool, if they can do anything other than be a blubbering pile of shit that looks like something that André the Giant took out in a forest, and dried up, then someone threw a Halloween mask out of the window and the wind took that mask and made that mask land on that pile of dried Giant shit. This match, you will be thrown over easily by someone like me. I might even get in some good training lifting you up and down before throwing you like the literal piece of garbage you are. I'll throw you like I threw Mastermind. With ease.

After you is Captain Acab. Captain Acab. You're a funny one. You're pretty much the only one who gets me chuckling when I see your promo. The rest of them look sad as fuck to me. Sad attempts at trying to cut me down. Sad attempts at going after their opponents. You try to be humorous. I do wonder though. How funny will it be, when I throw you so far you land in the fucking nosebleed section? I think it will be very funny, but you and I may not have the same kind of funny bone. Can't wait for Sunday to find out.

Liam, you're a non-issue. Several of the other people in the Battle Royale are of higher import than you will ever be. I believe you'll be the first out of the match, tending to your ego.

Mackenzie, normally I love a woman that can kick my ass, but you? Can't wait to beat your ass and make you lose. Plus, I have a wife. Even with her small frame, she can still kick my ass better than most of my opponents ever could. Hey, hold on a second, maybe she'd be into a three way."


He looks as if looking past the camera and he calls out

"HEY! HONEY! DO YOU THINK YOU WOULD WANT TO HAVE A THREEWAY WITH MACKENZIE WRIGHT?!"

After about a minute, and the sound of clicking coming to the door and the sound of it opening

"No."

The door closes and he looks back to the camera

"Well, y'heard her. You're not good enough. I guess she can only handle one person with muscles at a time. So, I'll have to toss you and leave your hopes and aspirations laying with you, on the ground.

And finally, Dick Powers. You bring up several things. You walk into a Denny's and it turns into Five Guys? So, what? You turn it into something that's upgraded yet still subpar? Sure. That's neat I guess. You eat at a restaurant, and it's given a Michelin Star? You do realize Michelin Stars are given out based on overall performance, right? How good the chefs are, how good the product is, how well you're able to speak to your customers, how well you treat them, how well the food tastes. These are all requirements for a Michelin Star. So what you're saying is either you're a dumb fuck, or you are on the board and give terrible restaurants free Michelin Stars because you frequent those spots. Basically saying you like to ruin the integrity of those ratings. You walk on water, it steams? So what you're saying is, you've got a secret compartment in your pants where you drop a scalding hot charcoal or piece of wood and let it fall into that water source.

I'm talking more about you, because you're the most ignorant, most egotistical, most annoying fuck I've ever had the displeasure of hearing and watching. You are a nobody, Richard. I'm not calling you by what you want anymore. You're a Richard. A fuckwit designing his life around ignorance and stupidity and a massive amount of ego. I have that same kind of ego, but at least I know how to deploy my ego. When to drop it on someone and when to reign it in. I look forward out of everyone I have to face, to hurting you the most. Breaking your damn back, making you fucking humble.

On Sunday you all will feel my wrath. Will feel my anger. Will feel my hate. You will then be replaced by the creatures deep down inside my factory. Nothing more than pawns, nothing more than toys. This Battle Royale? It is mine to win. It will be your end as you writhe in the pain caused by my hands. I will win this match and you will swear fealty to the only group that matters.

You...

Will...

Join...

Us...

Join B. O. B."
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