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X-treme Wrestling Federation »   » Archives » "Savage Saturday Night" RP Board
Soft Deadline Golden Madness
Author Message
Charlie Nickles Offline
The Nickleman



XWF FanBase:
Drug addicts, rebels, weirdos

(the villain you love to hate; has cult following; may deal drugs on side)


#1
04-22-2022, 10:59 PM

Wednesday Night Warfare
Directly Following The Tag Team Championship Loss


During the commercial break between the bastard’s two championship matches, the full cast of BOB was assembled in their personalized locker room. The walls are painted a dark purple with golden trim on the baseboards and fixtures. There are seven elaborately decorated lockers, split along two perpendicular walls. TK is playing a cheap mobile game on his phone as he sits in front of his locker, which is stuffed to the brim with duffel bags of cash. Jim Jimson and Barney Green sit together at a table in front of their lockers, respectively filled with bloody dolphin parts and physical $Barncoin prototypes. Besides them sits Oswald, who is going through his tax reports in front of his own locker, which contains an extra black suit and a framed photo of his loved ones. Next we see Bobby Bourbon, standing in front of a locker full of Arby’s wrappers. Bobby is looking at the two empty lockers at the end of the row, which are both made almost entirely of barbed-wire.

Bobby: Has anyone seen Charlie since we came back from the match?

Barney: I think he went to the bathroom.

Bobby: He’s been in there a long time.

Jim: Charlie just takes massive shits, especially after tough matches.

Bobby Bourbon shrugs, because that’s probably what’s happening. He goes back towards his locker and pulls a half-eaten roast beef sandwich. Bourbon gulfs down the Arby’s with just two more bites.

FFFFUUUUUUUUUUUUUCCCCCKKKKKK!

All the bastards look over to the bathroom door.

Oswald: Does he usually scream while shitting?

Bobby: Maybe somebody should go check on him…he was pretty shaken up on the walk back from the ring. Kept talking about killing himself, I don’t know what that’s all about.

All the other bastards looked over at Bobby with wide eyes, except Jim Jimson, who is beyond used to this by now.

Then the camera itself rapidly approaches the door on the far side of the room, before seemingly going through the closed door entirely. Within seconds the audience perspective has shifted entirely, and now Charlie Nickles fills the center frame.




Charlie stands in front of the bathroom mirror, running his hands down his cheeks as he pulls on the bottoms of his eyelids. On the counter of the bathroom sink sits a now half-empty bag of fentanyl pills BOB lifted from an XWF doppelganger gang just last night. The XWF TV championship is perched atop the tank of the toilet, watching all this unfold. Charlie claws his dirty nails into the flesh under his eyes as he screams at his own reflection.

FFFFUUUUUUUUUUUUUCCCCCKKKKKK!

Charlie flings the blood off his fingertips and onto the bathroom mirror before gripping the sink with both hands. He slowly shakes his head from side to side as he stares into the drain, unwilling to even gaze upon his own reflection right now. He mutters dejectedly to himself as his eyelids begin to leak crimson.

How did this happen? How did I let this happen?

Drip.


A scarlet droplet falls from Charlie’s eyelid into the bowl of the sink as he finally looks up at his own reflection.

How did you let this happen?

Drip.


Charlie is taken aback as his reflection seemingly repeats the question in perfect unison. Charlie looks away from the man in the mirror as he considers his predicament. The man with the bloody tears is doing everything he can to hold back his sobs.

I…..I….I….

Charlie stammers helplessly at the weight of his personal failings. He sighs deeply before releasing his grip on the sink and turning towards his championship belt. He begins walking towards the toilet on the other side of the room.

I…I….I…

Every step Charlie takes is a labored chore. Every action is forced. He feels like he is barely able to make it over towards his Goldi, the effort itself is almost too much: yet still, Charlie is able to make it to his championship belt. The Nickleman kneels down in front of the toilet as he stares up at the shining gold perched atop its tank.

Drip.


A crimson tear stains the tile floor.

I…I failed you.

Hush, child.

The radiant voice of a beautiful woman echoes through the room. Charlie’s eyes go wide as hears it.

You didn't fail at all. You had only lost one match in six months. Charlie Nickles had never lost a tag match in the XWF.

But I couldn’t bring it home…in the end, I failed.

No, child.

BOB failed YOU.


Charlie looks up towards his championship belt on the tank of the toilet with flabbergasted shock. In the mirror above the sink we see another reflection come into existence, but this time it looks nothing like Charlie. Instead, we see the decomposing face of a skeletal man. His ivory bones poke through his greenish flesh as we see maggots and worms crawling around in his mouth and eyes. A purple tongue creeps past his bloated lips as the skeletal apparition stares down at Charlie Nickles, who’s back is still turned towards the mirror. Charlie, meanwhile, is reaching up and touching the golden plates of his belt.

But…I took the pin…

And where were they, Charlie? Six members of BOB, but not a single one could break up the pin? Six members of BOB, but not a single one could come out to confront Alias after the match? Six members of BOB….but do the other five even care about you?

The disembodied voice boomed through the room and shook Charlie to his core. As the fentanyl pills really kicked into overdrive, Charlie could see the familiar walls around him beginning to crumble. Charlie felt the room shake back and forth violently before he saw pieces of the ceiling coming down upon him. Charlie grabbed his championship belt off of the toilet and moved away just in time to avoid the supposed debris collapsing from the ceiling. Charlie then turns around and grabs the half-empty bag of pills before stuffing them hastily back into his pockets.

As Charlie looks up briefly he can see the rotting face staring back at him through the mirror. The man in the mirror licks his lips as he stares into Charlie’s lost soul.

What the fuck!

Charlie instinctively punches the mirror with his left hand. The glass shatters and cuts his fist, filling the sink with blood and fiberglass. Charlie immediately turns away from the sink and heads to the bathroom door with his Goldi in tow.

You are so much greater than BOB. You are a GOD, Charlie Nickles…and they only want to hold you back.

The tone of the voice grew more and more sinister as it continued to boom. Meanwhile, pieces of ceiling tile continued to fall violently from above. Charlie shielded his head with his right hand while reaching out to open the bathroom door with his beeding left hand.

FFFFUUUUUUUUUUUUUCCCCCKKKKKK!

Charlie’s hand recoiled from the door handle. We now see that the once silver handle is now completely red. In fact, the handle has turned to magma and Charlie’s only means of egress is melting right before his eyes. Charlie holds his left hand up in horror as he can see that it was severely burned by the handle.

You are more like ALIAS than you could ever know, my Nickleman.

Let me the fuck out of here!

But don’t you want to be with me….forever?

Charlie’s dilated pupils can’t believe what they see, and maybe they shouldn’t after all those pills he’s taken. The Nickleman backs up against the wall of the bathroom as his championship gold begins levitating off of his shoulder. A beam of golden light appears in the center of the room, through one of the many holes in the ceiling tile. The XWF TV championship is pulled towards the beam before being engulfed in its shine.

GOLDI! NO!

The Nickleman reaches out for his championship belt with nothing but horror on his face. He tries to stay on the back wall while extending his hands, but it’s no use- the belt seems intent on leaving his side.

GOLDI! COME BACK!

I have never left.

Once the championship belt is pulled into the beam of golden light it remains suspended in midair, directly at Charlie’s eye-level. We see The Nickleman begin to sweat profusely as he plots his next move. But then, the beam of golden light explodes outwards and engulfs the entirety of the bathroom. Charlie is forced to shield his eyes from the illumination with both hands. The blinding light is so bright Charlie is forced to seal his eyes shut for multiple seconds.

Open your eyes, my darling. Don’t you want to see me?

Charlie feels a gentle touch upon his arms. Charlie opens his eyes and sees that the burn on his hand has completely disappeared. Charlie lowers his defenses and sees a beautiful woman standing in the bathroom with him. Her golden afro is coarse and woolen, her ebony skin smooth as glass. She wears a sundress with a floral rose pattern on her body, and she wears a thankful smile on her face.

Goldi?

Yes, Charlie.

Charlie’s jaw slacks as he stares into the green eyes of his championship belt. The woman rubs her finger down Charlie’s bloodstained cheek.

You have done so much for me. You have brought me out of the depths of despair, and you are about to make me the center of the universe.

Oh, baby, I’d do anything for you!

I know, Charlie. I know. That’s why I want you to kill every member of BOB.

Wh-what?

Confusion washes over The Nickleman as he questions whether or not he heard the woman correctly.

You know what I want from you, Charlie.

And I know what you want from me…


The apparition begins touching Charlie’s chest before it drops to its knees and begins unbuckling his belt. Charlie looks as satisfied as a pig in shit….before the door opens.
Every member of BOB, sans TK, barges into the bathroom. Oswald steps ahead of the rest while holding an ancient tome.

Charlie! Whatever you think is happening, it’s not really Goldi! Morbid’s book is trying to possess you!

Suddenly the blonde-haired ebony goddess pushes herself back to her feet with a snarl. Her mouth opens wide, like REALLY wide, and we can see hundreds of teeth and literally dozens of tongues swirling around. The woman lets out a screeching noise before bursting through the wall like a sexy little Kool-Aid-Man.

GOLDI! COME BACK!

The Nickleman charges after the illusion, much to the chagrin of his entire stable. Each member of BOB, sans TK, stretches out their arms and try to grab Charlie.

Bobby: Charlie!

Oswald: Charlie!

Barney: Charlie!

Jim: Charlie!

But it’s no use: The Nickleman is gone, chasing after everything he’s ever wanted.


[Image: BOBBREAK2.jpg]



You’ve got big balls Ring Master, I’ll give you that. Shame you don’t have half-a-brain to go with em’. Your daddy shoulda’ taught you how to act, then maybe you’d have a future in this company. But I guess you probably never did have a father, did you? I bet that’s why you never learned how to be a man. I bet that’s why you don’t know how to act right.

Your daddy would have taught you to only pick fights you can win. Your daddy would have taught you not to write checks your ass can’t cash. Your daddy would have smacked you around if he saw you doing that stupid shit you did last Saturdy night, ringboy. Your daddy would have raised you with some common fuckin’ sense, your daddy would have taught you what it means to be a man.

You see Ring Master, you can’t hide from me. I know you have kept your history cloaked in a veil of secrecy. I know you have tried to hide who you are, what you value, and what you seek. I’d even say you’ve done a pretty good job covering your tracks, Ring Master, because I suspect even YOU don’t know who you are, what you value, or what you seek. Your bloodline seems to be a mystery to all….to all except The Nickleman.

You see little ringboy, your TV God knows all about you. I know that you’re desperate for approval, you’re desperate for validation. That’s the only reason anyone on this earth would walk into my valley of death and beg for a match. Ring Master wants to prove he can hang with the big boys, Ring Master wants to prove he’s a man….because his daddy never told him he was good enough. His daddy never told him he was proud.

Or maybe I’m wrong. Maybe Ring Master from a loving family, maybe he grew up with doting parents and everything he could ever want. It’s hard to say, really, when the ringboy himself doesn’t know his heritage. He doesn’t know where he comes from, baby, and that’s why he doesn’t know where to go from here. He’s had a couple matches in the XWF, but the kid is directionless. He’s booked himself into a match for my golden ticket, but the Ring Master doesn’t even have a destination in mind.

Oh boy. This isn't going to go well for the kid.

Ring Master’s only been in this company for two shows. I wonder if he watched the entire program, or if he just showed up to wrestle his early matches. Did he even see me brutalize Ruby and Centurion at March Madness, or was he too busy with Rampage in the showers? Did he even see me ruin Reggie Estrada, or was he too busy leaving voicemails on daddy’s phone?

I could have knocked that boy’s head back last Savage when he came down to my ring. I know that’s what everyone was expecting me to do, I know everyone was waiting for the Devil Hook Drop to come. Everyone except Ring Master, that is. But I decided to show mercy that night. The only reason that boy came down to my ring was because he doesn’t know who The Nickleman is or what he does: if I had shown him then and there what I was about we never would have seen him again. He certainly never would’ve showed up to this match, shit, the boy barely showed up to his tag match at the pay per view!

If I would have dropped Ring Master’s ass then and there I would have bruised his ego and dented his skull so permanently that he’d never be able to show his face around here again. I could have crushed his dream and ended his career all in the blink of an eye.

But I showed mercy.

I chose to open my heart up this little ringboy, folks, because he reminds me of someone I know. You see a couple years ago there was a man who decided to put it all on the line and go for broke in this little thing we call life. He wasn’t like those suckers that settle for the shit in their life while placing their dreams on the shelf. This man had a dream and he was willing to chase it, but even more than that, he was willing to die for it.

Everything in his life became secondary to his passion. He spent years honing his craft and sharpening his mind as he battled through the fameless hordes. His whole life became dedicated to mastering the art of his war. Everyone told him to give up on his dreams and do something more realistic.

Everyone in his life told him he’d never make it! Even his own wife told him he’d be better off as a circus clown, his own mother told him he should give up and go become a carnie!

There was no one that believed in him….except himself. That man was THE NICKLEMAN.

And now, The Nickleman is the best there is. He’s the TV God, he’s the longest reigning television champion you’ll ever meet. He’s going to Leap of Faith to beat the dogshit out of Alias, and then he’s going to make love to his championship belt on live pay per view.

That’s the Nickleman, though. That’s what I’m about.

I got to the pinnacle of this industry because I was the only one who believed in me. Ring Master doesn’t have that luxury, though, because I know he won’t beat me in our three ringed circus match!

[Image: 27J5l3J.png]
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