One, two, three, four, bitch gotta go!

Charlie Nickles sits in the back of the bastard's hummer as the limo drives over the mean streets of Steubenville to a gangster rap soundtrack. Charlie rolls the window down and makes eye contact with the XWF drone tailing his vehicle as he holds Goldi in his lap.

This is 6-0 business, Reggie.

You know what that means, don’t ya? You’re wise to the streets. You’re ‘hip’ to the ‘hop’, ain’t ya? You should know it means you’re fresh fucking meat.

So what are you even doing here, Reggie?

I have 6 consecutive wins in defense of the TV championship against the best talent Saturday night has to offer. What the fuck makes you think you’re going to be the mystical ‘1’ across a dash from the other ‘6’? I asked you this question last week, Reggie, and you still don’t have an answer for me!

But you got something else for The Nickleman, doncha’, Reggie?

Charlie cackles to himself before busting out a hackneyed Jamaican accent.

You got that fiyah in ya rasta soul.

Charlie cackles some more.

All heart no brains, that’s Reggie Estrada in a nutshell. No balls or spine either, but that child is full of soul, he wears his emotions on his sleeve. That’s what makes him so easy to manipulate. I’ve done it once, I’ve done it again, I’ll probably do it a million times.

After three weeks of knowing Reggie Estrada I manipulated the stupid son of a bitch into signing away his parental rights. Just sit with that for a moment.

Big smiles from The Nickleman.

And now folks, I’ve done it again. With just a few mocking words and a tug on the heartstrings I’ve twisted Reggie’s emotions into a pretzel-ball of fury. Just last week this sad little clown couldn’t promise to survive past the three minute mark in our match. Now all of a sudden he’s going to “kill Charlie’s ass in that deathmatch bullshit”???

Now where have I heard that before…oh yeah, I’ve heard that SIX TIMES already! So what makes you different, Reggie? Why will you be the mystical ‘1’ across from the other ‘6’? But we’ve been here before, I know Reggie still doesn’t have an answer. All he has is that newfound rage in his heart: a fire in his soul that has been stoked by The Nickleman. That flame that I worked so hard to set….will be oh so satisfying to put out.

Charlie grins like a dog.

That’s what The Nickleman does. That’s his whole M.O.. He puts that fire in you, just so he can laugh when he stomps it out. I want Reggie’s blood running red hot tomorrow night. It’s more fun to watch it spill that way.


Charlie snickers as he rolls the window up. He closes his eyes and rests in the backseat as he envisions Reggie’s oncoming torment.


I'ma send a few more up to heaven
You catch an opp, then catch a blessing



Ain't murder yet, but, boy, get ready



The partition separating the championship couple from the driver is rolled down slightly, and we hear a nondescript voice call out to Charlie.

“We’re here. This is the place.”

Charlie rolls down his window and sees an empty parking lot amidst a row of trees. In the distance you can see a playground. Just beyond that, a decaying bridge.

Flash your lights exactly six times.

The driver sighs while doing what he’s told: after all, he really wants to join BOB. As Charlie scans the horizon he sees a shady looking blonde man come out from beneath the old bridge.



The hell's that?!

That’s Cheddar Al! I knew he’d be here, he’s always here. I still don’t know why he was sending me all those weird video messages tho…

Cheddar Al drops his chainsaw onto the grass before he steps onto the pavement. Cheddar pulls his mask up to the top of his head, revealing a face full of bleeding pustules and a patchy goatee. Charlie reaches beneath the seat as he approaches. Charlie pulls out a sealed brick of and hands it to the bridge dweller through the window. Cheddar smiles as he tucks the at his side.

You put that brick to good use, aight?

I’m going to half of this into my tonight, then tomorrow morning I’m going to see if I can manage the other half!

Charlie laughs emphatically as he taps his hand on his knee.

That’s what I like to hear! Just make sure you don’t wander off, Cheddar Al, cause this bridge is the perfect place for you to keep an eye on my family! And don’t you worry about an OD on this , Cheds’, cause it’s 100% straight. Not a trace of fent.

Cheddar Al displays a grin from ear to ear, showcasing his missing front teeth. Cheddar reaches into his overalls and pulls out a plastic bag with some brown powder. He hands it to Charlie.

You’re going to want to try this, Nickleman. This stuff will take you to seventh heaven.

Charlie readily accepts the bag and tucks it into his own pocket without further examination. Why ask unnecessary questions, right?

You’ve always been good to me, Al. I put more minutes on your phone, so keep texting me updates about the family. Oh and by the way…I gotta ask, even though I feel stupid asking…you took care of Connie's little problem, right?

Cheddar Al cracks a toothless grin at the question.

Oh, oh yeah. He was a screamer- just like her last guy.

Figures, Connie has a type. Keep bleeding out every pig that gets too close to my pen and we’ll be in tip-top shape, Chedz. You know we make a pretty good team, you and I. Maybe one of these days I’ll toss you that coveted BOB invite. But for now just go on and enjoy that lil’ sumthin’ sumthin’.

The weirdo saluted Charlie before walking back towards his chainsaw and picking it up. Cheddar Al repositioned his hockey mask on his face as he revved his saw to life. A few seconds later he skipped off through the line of trees, chainsaw and all.

Who the hell was that?!

Don’t worry, this guy won’t get a BOB invite before you do. Now take us to the next spot.

Alright, fine. You said this park is close to your ex-wife’s house, right? So it shouldn’t be a long drive?

We’re going across town. Tyler’s in the hospital, not at home. You’ve got a GPS, so use it. Now go ahead and roll the partition up, eh? Give Goldi and I some privacy.

The driver sighs before rolling up the partition and hitting the road. Charlie turns to face the XWF drone following his every move.

I’m the one man Reggie Estrada should’ve never agreed to face again. See, I’m not like Alias. You can’t play around with me for months at a time, always coming back for more. Nope, The Nickleman doesn't work that way. You come around and play with The Nickleman one too many times you’re going to end up playing with the fishes! Just ask Jim Caedus and Betsy Granger…if you can find them!

Who the fuck have you taken out of this federation, Reggie? It seems pretty self-evident that I have single-handedly ended the XWF careers of Dallas Marshall, Lynx, Betsy Granger, and Jim Caedus. But what about you, Reggie? Do you have a list like mine? Worry not, prison rat. I may just add your name to my list soon enough.

Charlie’s lips curl into a sadistic grin as he looks down at the belt in his lap.

So long as fools come chasing after my belt this list will continue to grow. When will they learn that no one besides me deserves to hold Goldi? Especially not Reggie. I would never treat Goldi the way Reggie Estrada treats those cheap whores he dates. He should be in prison, not across from me on the card! I hope those hookers fleece Reggie in court. I’m not quite sure what he did to violate them, but whatever it was I’m sure it’s horrific. Joffrey-esque, even. I don’t need to see the evidence, I just know that sick fuck did everything he’s accused of!

Alas, our justice system has more miscarriages than a blue-haired dissentient. So The Nickleman will have to try this prison rat Saturday night as his judge, jury, and executioner.

Charlie’s rant elicits a disapproving grunt from the driver, but Nickles completely ignores it. Nickles does, however, start laughing uncontrollably for some reason.

Haha I said ‘alas’. I bet ALIAS heard his name and is going to chime in any minute now! He’s such a fucking narcissist. He oughta send some of his overconfidence over to Reggie so we can keep everyone level headed around here!

It’s a good thing I don’t let any of my success go to my head, right Goldi? I’d hate to start acting crazy.

Charlie stares lovingly at the golden belt in his lap. Meanwhile, the driver rolls the partition back down.

We’re pulling up to the hospital. Are these coordinates right? You want to be dropped off at the mental health wing?

Just follow the coordinates, don’t ask questions. I have a fifth amendment right to HIPPA protections.

The driver silently rolls up the partition and stops the limo. Charlie straps his championship belt around his waist before he opens the hummer’s door. Before he exits the vehicle, he gives a final instruction to the driver.

Wait right here for me. If anyone comes and threatens to tow you, just hit them with your finishing move and then tuck them in the trunk. Don’t worry about witnesses: people in the Stu’ respect power more than anything else. That’s why there are no Reggie Estrada fans here.

Charlie slams the door shut before turning away from the red limo. He breathes in hesitantly as he begins walking towards the mental health ward of the local hospital. He keeps one hand on his Goldi as he pushes open the glass doors and steps inside the imposing building. A stubby ginger woman with slight dimples greets the greatest TV champion ever from behind a desk.

Hi! How can I help you? Are you here to voluntarily commit yourself?

The woman looks Charlie up and down with a helpful smile, but even she has to cover her nose as soon as his stank hits her.

Maybe we can get you a shower?

I’m here to see someone.

The shrink?

The nurse says expectantly. She grabs a nearby clipboard with pink papers off of her cluttered desk.

My son.

Oh.

She sets that clipboard down before grabbing a different clipboard with white papers off the desk.

So, what’s the name of the patient?

Tyler.

Tyler…what’s the last name on that?

The nurse carefully scans her list of names, flipping through the pages on the clipboard as she searches for a Tyler.

Nichols. My son is Tyler Nichols.

The nurse sets the clipboard down as her eyes go wide. Her happy-go-lucky demeanor shifts into a far more serious tone.

Oh…he’s not in this unit anymore. He, uh…well, let me grab his file and walk you to the ICU. I doubt anyone else is going to come here all day, no one likes to visit the crazies!

The stumpy nurse grabs a file from the top of a nearby filing cabinet before walking out from behind the desk and gesturing for Charlie to follow her. She leads The Nickleman through a variety of winding halls, mostly filled with bad art and closed doors.

Your son, Tyler, was admitted a few days ago after an attempted suicide. He tied a noose around his neck and tried to hang himself from the tree in the backyard, apparently in the spot where the family’s old tire swing used to hang.

He’s so young for a suicide attempt…were you letting him watch Reggie Estrada’s depressing promos?!

Uhm…no.

Of course…no one watches those.

But your son’s condition is incredibly alarming. The doctors diagnosed him with an unknown childhood mood disorder, possibly clinical depression. While he was awaiting a therapy session today, he tore his neck wide open with a ballpoint pen. He lost a lot of blood before we found him…he hasn’t been responsive since.

Horizontally or vertically?

Wait-

If he was doing it vertically he really meant to kill himself. If it’s horizontal, it was just for attention and we can’t play into that kind of behavior.

The nurse stops and looks back at Charlie, clearly mortified. She shakes her head, thoroughly shell shocked by the question.

That’s sick! And that’s only said about people who slit their wrists, which your son didn’t do!

Just take me to him.

The nurse turns away harshly from Charlie before guiding him back towards his son. Charlie rolls his eyes at the nurse’s sudden incredulity. A few awkward minutes roll by before the pair arrive outside of a dark room. A gray placard with white text reads ‘Room 333: Patient Tyler Nichols’ on the right side of the doorway.

This is his room. Ring the bell if you need something. Please don’t need anything.

Without a further word the nurse started walking back from whence she came, shaking her head every few seconds in disapproval. Charlie shrugged off her cold reception before he opened the door and stepped into his son’s ICU room.

Son? Are you in here? That bitch told me you were in here.

Daddy!

A little girl jumps off a sofa tucked away in the corner. She dashes across the room and greets her absent father with a big hug. He, of course, reciprocates the favor while patting her little head and messing up her hair.

Emily! It’s good to see you. But where’s Tyler?

The girl lets go of the hug and points over towards the bed set up against the wall. A variety of machines are beeping while tracking this and that bodily function. The young boy tucked beneath the covers of the bed has an oxygen mask strapped over his face that looks to be doing most of his breathing for him. The cloth bandages around the child’s neck are turning slightly more crimson with every passing minute.

He’s in the bed still, sleeping. He hasn’t been awake all day.

Well that’s no good, is it? Let’s go check on him.

Charlie takes his daughter’s hand and guides her to the bedside of his comatose son.

Well he doesn’t look all that bad, does he?

I don’t think so, except for that mask and stuff. But mommy and the doctors say he’s really sick.

Charlie turns his head towards Emily.

Is mommy here?

Yeah. She went to the cafe to get me something to eat, but she probably went down to smoke a cigarette. She’s seriously stressed out.

Well then I shouldn’t stay long, that cunt still has a protection order against me.

But dad, you just got here!

Charlie gets down on one knee to explain the situation to his daughter.

Blame your whore mother for this. She doesn’t let me see you anymore. She says the ‘courts’ have ‘rules’ and ‘orders’ and shit. She’s a total bitch.

I knew it was all mom’s fault! I knew you still loved me!

Of course I love you, Emily! You’re my favorite child now that Tyler decided to pussy out of life.

Charlie looks towards the bed as he rubs Emily’s hair gently. Charlie watches the bed for a few seconds as if anticipating a reaction. When there is none he turns his focus back to Emily.

Well I suppose I’d better be going. I’d hate to go to jail for the crime of being a father, but you know how your mother is.

Where are you going to go?

Me and your future step-mother here have a date with destiny tomorrow night up in Candy-land.

Charlie gestures towards his belt with a big ol’ smile. Emily raises her eyebrow.

Candyland…what are you doing there?

I have to go beat-up an absent father who sexually violates loose women.

He sounds like a no good bastard!

Ha! He wishes!

Emily looks really confused as her father turns around to leave.

Wait…did you say something about a new stepmom?

Charlie stops dead in his tracks and slaps his own forehead ala Homer Simpson.

Ope! You’re right, I forgot the introductions! Where are my manners?

Charlie turns back around points towards his comatose son while speaking at his championship belt.

That right there is Tyler. He’s pretending to be asleep right now for attention.

Charlie then points towards his daughter.

That’s Emily. She’s a real sweetheart! My only daughter.

Charlie then speaks towards Emily while pointing at his championship belt.

And Emily, this right here is Goldilocks! She’s the XWF TV championship belt, but you can just start calling her ‘new mom’ now!

Emily blinks.

Wait…what? Are you joking, dad?

Huh? I don’t know what you’re talking about. Anyways, I’ll be back in a couple weeks! I’m going to take you kids down to Disney’s Star Wars Land for a vacation!

Wait, for real?! We’re going to the Star Wars theme park?!

You better believe it, kiddo! Goldi got us a great deal on tickets through some XWF promotional event. Isn’t she a great step-mom?

Charlie smiled lovingly at his daughter, who was both incredibly confused and excited.

I love Star Wars! Thank you, dad! I love you so much!

Charlie felt a sense of fatherly pride as he turned away from his daughter and opened the door to the hallway.

Well I love you too, Emily! Probably more than I love Tyler now!

Emily runs towards her father to give him a departing hug, but she’s too slow. Charlie’s already through the door before Emily’s little arms can reach him.