Muscling Out the Competition- Part 4 (Patreon)
Content
Oscar is now the biggest boss around- but that doesn't mean he's done with putting the rest of Fortnite's roster in their place. Enjoy all, and thank you for your support!
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There was a school of philosophy that said that victory was boring, in the end; Oscar could only respectfully, but firmly, laugh his ass off at how wrong that was. After chugging the very last drop of his vintage Slurp Juice, he had stormed Montague's stronghold single-handedly, and the Society's unflappable master thief had folded like a cheap table. Now, the Society was his, with all its resources, power, and influential connections at his fingertips.
The next question was, what would he do with it? The behemoth of a tiger had an imagination just about as big as his monumental body, if only just. And he did take a moment to linger at the body he had built for himself; it really was a marvel to behold. His enormous back outclassed all but the largest bulwarks, and his chest surged upward like a clefted mountain, wedging his chin as his neck was buried in his enormous shoulders and his beachball-sized biceps pressed in against his cheeks. His earth-shaking legs, now so densely packed with muscle they were wider around than they were long, made the ground shake with his thunderous footfalls. His stripes warped over the sprawling valleys of muscle, every bit of brawn on display now— the insultingly short fight with Montague had rendered his last good suit, but at this point, Oscar didn't really feel like covering up anymore. His dense muscles were so tightly packed, bullets merely grazed him, and bounced right off his titanic physique when he flexed and tightened them.
Now that he was the last boss standing of the Society, however, the fight wasn't over— when you're at the top, everyone wants to take a shot at taking you down. Oscar couldn't wait to see them try.
The immense tiger grinned as he hefted the first two hopefuls— Wendell was wedged firmly against his jutting cliff of a chest, and John Llama landed a punch that barely made his other pec twitch.
He smirked, his voice rolling out in a deep, powerful rumble. "Keep trying, boys— I can keep showing you who the boss is over and over again. But maybe you'd like to hear a business pitch instead, over a few glasses of Slurp Juice…"