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Throne of Gods

Throne of Gods

You’ve heard the story of the Devine Comedy, better know as Dante’s Inferno. 

We actually saw something similar to that. 

 Once we watched as a man, a mortal, marched into Lucifer’s throne room tossing the head of the fallen angel who’d been guarding door at my former master’s feet.   

This mortal demand then to make a deal.  Talking about all the holy relics he had adorned himself with for protection. The months of scheming he had done to take advantage of the Church to get his hands on these tools.  

My master surprised him, wrapping his tail around the throat of the intruder, lifting him off his feet, and stared directly into his now bulging eyes. 

“Petty human, you come all this way believing Yahweh’s trinkets to be your protection, and you make demands of me. What do you say for yourself, now?” 

Lucifer’s rage was palpable as he stared down the invader who said nothing, didn’t even make a sound, because when you’re truly choking you won’t have the air to make a noise. 

“You came all this way thinking you had the power of a God but here, I am God. 

This interloper thought he was the smartest man in the room, that his planning would allow him to just manipulate his way to the top. The thing is, it’s hard to think of a new plan when you’re choking on your first.    

Now we’ve claimed our own throne in the form of the OSW Double Feature Championship.   

We’ve been watching another mortal believing he’s the smartest in the room has leveraged the power of Jetsetters and Templars to help you keep a pair of Bad Motherfuckers in check.  At the same time, he’s attempting to negotiate deals with what remains of the Underworld. 

Believing that he’s a puppeteer, that can control the rain itself, that he may have the author of death itself bend to his will, and that type of over confidence will be his end. 

Won’t it, Simon? 

Let’s break something down for you, outside of that ring you’re a master manipulator, you’re the best at bending people to your mind’s will. But that ring whether you accept it or not, is our throne room. 

In that ring we are the almighty Lucifer! In that ring… we… are… God!     

And when you feel my arms wrap around your devious neck, you won’t make sound, your windpipe will close, and as you retch for breath the world will hear nothing. 

You will realize that JSR aren’t coming to your aide, Vayikra won’t be your saving grace, Death and his son don’t give a fuck about you, and even that fire crotch harlot you call a wife cannot save you. 

Simon, we will strangle whatever plot, tactic, refinement, etcetera you have in store for us until it lies dead at your feet.  

Just a memory of your King’s ascent to the ultimate throne. 

As we are Legion, and while our master couldn’t clutch God’s throne, we will not settle for anything less than OSW’s!