Moonlight peaks through the open bathroom window. Foggy breath escapes the man’s shivering lips as he pulls a shirt over his wet body. His uncombed hair drapes over his forehead and partially covers his eyes as he tilts his gaze forward. He meanders slowly around the room before taking a few soft steps towards the camera.

I thought I knew true love before I ever met her. I thought I knew true beauty before I ever laid eyes on her. I thought I knew what it meant to be alive before I ever caressed her golden face.

The man chuckles to himself while stepping directly in front of the sink. Frosted breath shoots out from behind his lips as he leans forward onto the countertop.

How foolish of me. My marriage with Connie could never prepare me for a relationship with my Goldilocks. No needle in my arm can compare to the feeling of bliss I get when I feel her around my waist.

I would do anything to feel her once more. To touch her. To have her.

I would do anything to anyone for her…..and I think that’s what true love is. I’ve never felt this way before. I’ve never been so…attached....obsessed.....for so long after the fact. I just can’t get over her. I just can’t get her out of my mind.

If God exists, she really is a woman. If God exists, she’s the crowning jewel of the television division. I will worship her endlessly.

The man lifts his gaze up and stairs straight ahead. From the angle of the camera it’s impossible to see what he is looking at above the sink.

Marf has his sights set on the wrong woman. He’s so caught up in the blues he can’t even appreciate the golden goose standing right in front of him, just there for the taking. Figures. Marf has never been able to appreciate true beauty. The kind of beauty that transcends the need for a body.

He had her. He had her in his slimy, disgusting, selfish and unappreciative hands. He had her. Not that licentious Lycana, no, he had in his hands a beauty far greater. But he never knew what to do with her. He could never treat her like I could. Did he even take the time to caress her gentle plates? Did he sing her sweet lullabies at night? Did he treat her with love and passion?

No, no….he never could. He could never appreciate the gold around his waist so long as he was daydreaming about that blue around his pecker. That lascivious Lycana…..oh how she’s destroyed that man.

The Marf I once knew is all but dead. When I look into his eyes I don’t see that same fearless warrior who stood beside me all those years ago in the FCW. I can hear it in his voice whenever he talks: he’s been broken. Lycana literally has him house-trained, that devious witch! He was a man of strength and pride at one point, and now look at him! He’s babysitting that bitch’s brat and cleaning her house all while she’s probably off cleaning some dude’s cock and balls! He’s so busy unclogging Reika’s shits he completely forgot to defend his freestyle championship!

Charlie can’t help but facepalm as he describes Marf’s situation to himself. Charlie slowly brings his hand off of his face as he shakes his head from side to side.

I should’ve known Marf didn’t have the spirit of a badass in him. I should’ve known that Canadian DNA was going to kick in sooner or later to make a complete pussy out of my old drinking buddy.

I remember the time he stepped in between me and Connie when I was disciplining her. I was only able to land a half dozen fists before he pulled her out of the room! She had asked another wrestler for an autograph, so I had to show her what happens when her mind wanders! I should’ve known then that Marf and I weren’t cut from the same cloth. He doesn’t know how to treat a woman, how to make her stay with him. No wonder Lycana and Goldilocks both stray so far from him so quickly.

I’ve done everything I can to reinvigorate that fire inside of his soul. I drafted him on my war games team and even set up an elaborate scheme to help teach him the way of the killer, the way of the bastard. To help him grow into the madman I know he can be. I even took a knee to the head to keep Marf from being the first man eliminated in the match! But even after the curtains closed he still let Lycana make a complete and total cuckold out of him. I wasn’t able to awaken the monster I thought was inside of him at War Games, I was only able to wake Robert’s Monstrosity.

So I created, directed, booked, and produced the Marf Show…..but really, my goal was to show Marf. Show Marf that there’s another way. Show Marf that there is a life in professional wrestling outside of Lycana…..even if she still happened to make her way onto the card through Marf’s incessant begging. I tried to show Marf that there is so much he can do in this world without Lycana if he just lets his savage side show!........but when the curtains closed he still went back to Lycana’s home and made her bed. In fact, I heard that he waited in that bed for her all night. Of course, she never came. Heh, she never came...maybe that’s why she doesn’t want to go to bed with him.

Charlie smiles to himself before softly sighing. He can’t help but feel a bit of sympathy for his old tag team partner.

Oh poor Marf. Poor, miserable Marf. He can’t be content with the way things are going, but still, he lets them go on. Not like me. When I have a problem I solve it the only way I know how: bloodshed. I wish I could teach Marf to be more like me. To be more ruthless. To really live the life he claims to live in his promos.

I’ve done so much to help him overcome his pussification. I made him a headlining star for a pay per view. I created a whole television program for him. I have done so much to give him that unquenchable thirst for violence and chaos he thinks he already has. I have...I have…..

Charlie steps back from the countertop as he squints away from the camera. A slight inflection of anger rips through his words.

Why have I done so much for him? Why have I tried to carry his lifeless body along with me on my road to glory? Why……

Charlie closes his eyes and sighs deeply before leaning forward and gripping the counter top once again.

He did help me kill off the Demos. Him and that gypsy helped bring my soul back out from that abyss…..but hasn’t that debt been paid? I don’t need to do anything more for him, I’ve done enough. He has to learn how to be a man on his own now….but I suppose I can give ol’ Barfy Boy one last lesson in toxic masculinity when we meet in the semi-finals.

Charlie cracks a grin as he rubs his right hand through his curly hair.

Oh poor, miserable Marf. At least he’ll get the joy of watching me reunite with my dear Goldilocks.

Charlie pushes himself off of the countertop and turns towards the camera. He takes a step forward before looking back at the open window inside of the shower.

Wouldn’t want Vita’s batty ass flying in here. That’s the last thing I need.

Charlie turns around and walks the length of the bathroom. The snapping of twigs can be heard from just outside the window as Charlie approaches.

What was that…

Charlie rushes towards the window and sticks his head out of the opening. He closely scans out through the darkness, silently, looking for any sign of a disturbance…..

Is somebody fucking there? I’ll rip your cock off and shove it down your throat! Get out of here!

Maybe not so silently.

Fucking teens.

Charlie brings his head back inside and shuts the window. He glances outside once more with his suspecting gaze, but nothing out of the ordinary is visible. Charlie steps away from the window with an anxious look. As the Nickleman approaches the camera he gestures for it to be raised.

Come on Danny, we need a few more shots.

An irritated voice calls back from behind the camera.

Charles, what the hell are we even doing here? I know Vinnie gives you complete creative control but uh, squatting in an abandoned home and jerking off to your old matches is pretty off the wall. Can’t we just go film something normal, like everyone else?

First off Danny, I don’t jerk off to wrestling, okay? And the match you're referencing, whatever you think you heard during it, that wasn’t even my match.

But you’re Demos…

Charlie Nickles waves away the mistaken notion as he rolls his eyebrows.

That’s buffoonery. Just because I’m taking a break from crack cocaine doesn't mean you need to go scrounging around my stash during your breaks. Demos and The Nickleman are different people, alright? Different bodies and everything.

Yeah yeah, different bodies, alien abduction, yada yada can we just film whatever else you need so I can leave?

Charlie Nickles takes another step towards the camera. He cracks his knuckles while staring sternly at the production assistant behind the camera.

You think I’m kidding? That demon manifestation stole everything from me! I used to be a Christian before that specter put me through the things he put me through….but now? Now I’m no Christian…..I know the only God that exists is my precious Goldilocks. But that’s not all I know, no no…...I used to believe that the devil was real, that hell was a place people could go….now I don’t believe it. I know it.

Yeah yeah, Demos expelled your soul to hell and The Left Hand helped you come back through voodoo magic and a red costume. Then you burned his body into a crisp, and this all totally happened on the moon. I filmed that pay per view. Thank God I didn’t have to film your promotional material for it.

You can thank Goldilocks for anything, she deserves heaps of praise. She’s magnificent, glorious…..and DEMOS TOOK HER FROM ME! Then he threw her away, tossed her aside in pursuit of RIDICULOUS ideas like communism and freedom! Losing Goldilocks…..coming back to this world without her around my waist….THAT WAS HELL FOR ME!

KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK

Charlie’s nightly rant is interrupted by a fierce knocking on the front door. Charlie stands completely still as his eyes wander down the hall towards the front of the old traphouse.

Are you going to go get that?

Are you mad? Do you not know what happened to me?! There is an attempted killer out there still, looking for me, probably trying to finish the job. I bet they’d love to finish me off before I reunite with my love. That rat fucking bastard.

You’re crazy.

I’m crazy?

Yes.

You’re fucking delusional. You want to open the door and let a loose serial murderer in! If you try to open that door, I’m going to Devil Hook Drop you into the fucking floor.

Yeah right. We’re all professionals here, Charles.

KNOCK KNOCK

Seriously, we should probably open the door. It might be the cops asking why we’re in an abandoned house. I don’t have a good answer for them, by the way.

You’re an idiot if you don’t think that’s my killer! We’re going upstairs to finish this, I have my weapons up there.

I’m definitely not going upstairs with you. I’m going to open the door. All the knocking is going to ruin the audio, anyways.

KNOCK KNOCK

Don’t you fucking do it.

We hear footsteps retreating from the camera as a scowl spreads across Charlie’s face.

I’m warning you!

Charlie can’t shake his nightly paranoia. The now sweating Nickleman waits only a few more moments before charging off camera. A loud cracking noise is heard behind the camera, immediately followed by a terrified scream and a ‘HELP ME!!!’- then, a very loud UMPH.

KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK

The camera is picked up and we see a pair of pant legs moving one after the other in front of dark wooden panels. We quickly pass by the unconscious body of a blond haired man with a headset. Then, we see the pant legs walking up a creaky set of stairs.

KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK

Not letting you in here, you sick freak. Go murder somebody else.

It isn't long before Charlie sets up the camera in front of a wooden rocking chair in an otherwise empty room. Charlie places the camera on the floor before stepping over it and falling backfirst into the rocking chair, setting it in motion. Charlie’s feet are the part of his body that’s closest to the camera as he cuts back into his nightly raving.

There aren’t many men that can appreciate everything Goldilocks has to offer. Take Cage Coleman, for example. How could a man like THAT ever appreciate a goddess like Goldy? He doesn’t know what she’s worth, he doesn’t value her like he should. In fact, I reckon he’ll be rather easy to run through precisely because he doesn’t care about fighting for her. Why would he risk his hide against the Nickleman for a championship belt he doesn’t appreciate?

If he thinks Goldilocks is a bottom belt he is sorely mistaken. That belt is no bottom, that belt is a top! It rides your waist in a way you can NEVER forget! But Cage Coleman, oh he’ll never know about that. He’ll never know what that sweet championship gold tastes like….not unless I decide to smack him in the face with the belt after I win it! That should teach him to think twice about doubting her weight around here.

I mean honestly, who even is this guy to walk into this company and immediately be competing in a tournament of this calibre? The only thing I know about this guy’s history is he wrestled a vibrator over in Japan and somehow lost! Or that’s what I think those results said at least, it was all in Chinaman talk so I couldn’t quite parse out the commentator’s words.

Cage Coleman likes to walk around like he’s some sort of big shot. Hah, talk about fake it til’ you make it! The sad news for him is that he’s never going to get the chance to make it- not as long as the Nickleman is standing in his way. I’ve beaten the Bobby Bourbons, the Sebastian Dukes, the Jim Caedus’ of this world. I’ve sold out Madison Square Garden, I’ve headlined night three of Relentless.

What has Cage Coleman headlined? Who has Cage Coleman beaten? How many times has Cage Coleman sold out Madison Square Garden?

Cage Coleman likes to brag about the fact that no one has ever walked out of his matches. That’s a low bar for bragging, as an opening match must be just atrocious to make people leave at the beginning of a show. Regardless, I’m going to make sure Cage Coleman’s only believable brag comes to an end tomorrow night. People are going to walk out of that tournament finale, oh you better believe it.

No one likes to see a pretty boy’s face get bitten off by a homeless man. It’s a grisly, gruesome scene. But I’m a mad dog and my teeth have been itching to gnaw on a new chewtoy. Of course, a Reggie Estrada chewtowy wouldn’t taste half bad either...

Footsteps quickly approach from behind the camera before a familiar voice screams louder than you may have thought possible.

¡Cállate la puta, CHARLIE! ¡Vi tu promoción de mierda y escuché lo que dijiste sobre mi madre! Debo patearte el culo ahora mismo, pero antes de que te rompa las piernas con rollos de imanari, ¡por qué no entregas ese maldito anuario!

Oh LSM, fancy seeing you here. But be careful! There’s a likely serial killer outside!

LSM steps over the camera and gets all up in Charlie’s face. She points a finger right at his chest as she screams at him again.

I WAS THE PERSON OUTSIDE!

Well damn, what are you doing here? I’m kind of in the middle of making a tribute video to my babygir-

I SAW THE VIDEOS YOU MADE FOR THE LAST SAVAGE! YOU WENT INTO SOME BEATUP JANK AND TOOK THE YEARBOOK! REMEMBER, THE YEARBOOK YOU TOLD ME I WAS DIGGING FOR?!?! GIVE ME THE YEARBOOK BEFORE I BREAK YOUR FAT NECK!

Calm down LSM! Of course I was going to give you the yearbook, it’s just down stairs!

LET’S GO, NOW! HURRY UP YOU PIECE OF HUMAN FILTH!

Don’t be dramatic!

LSM starts walking off camera as Charlie pushes himself off the rocking chair. He looks smugly at the camera.

Teenage girls, am I right?

¡DAME EL FOLLADO ANUARIO PARA QUE PUEDA PATARTE EL CULO SIN QUE TÚ ERES ESCUCHANDO COMO LA PEQUEÑA RATA CON CARA COBARDE QUE ERES!

Charlie winks at the camera before he steps over it.

The yearbook is right down here. It has the names and the contact information of everyone who was at the wrestling camp that year. I guess one of the people there has to be your father, or something, whatever. I owed your mom one last favor so I didn’t say anything earlier, but you know I really haven’t appreciated your bitchy attitude…..

The camera cuts off as the former champion walks away with a screaming woman in an abandoned house…...just like every other Friday night.