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+--- Thread: The 1st XOTUS Chronicle (/showthread.php?tid=48286)
The 1st XOTUS Chronicle - Charlie Nickles - 12-13-2024
The Oval Office, once the center of the U.S. presidency, now lies in ruin from the fallout of XWF War Games. The American flag, which once stood proudly behind the Resolute Desk, now lays on the floor tattered and caked with ash. A brand new, black and blue XWF-branded flag has been raised in its place.
“I make the rules, and the rules are clear: I get to do whatever the hell I want!”
In the center of the room, the Resolute Desk stands untouched, impossibly pristine amidst the devastation surrounding it. Behind the desk sits the current XWF X-treme Champion, Charlie Nickles, the self-proclaimed ‘XOTUS.’ His presence dominates the room with a twisted echo of authority. The gray metal wrestling belt, with its brutal, rugged design, is proudly displayed on the desk where a presidential placard once rested, as if announcing Charlie’s reign to the world. The chaos around him only amplifies the eerie calm in which he sits, a conqueror amidst the ruins.
“Adeyemi may have been the last one standing, but once the dust from War Games settled, I was the first Legionnaire to claim my place in the new world! With the Legion’s victory enshrined, it is time to move into a new era. A post, post-apocalysptic era, if you will. The time for war is over: now is the time for peace. A peace we can only achieve through strength. My strength, specifically.”
The walls, once adorned with portraits of past presidents, now bear the images of former X-treme Champions. The faces of ALIAS, Dr. D'Ville, and Robert Main gaze out from scarred, cracked frames, their once-vibrant likenesses now dulled by dust and debris. One photo lies on the ground, the frame twisted and broken—it's Johnny Bacchus, his image marred by a deep crack running through the center.
“And that’s why I must unite the X-treme and the TV belts to bring true peace in the XWF. With these belts united my strength will be unquestionable, and I alone will be able to ensure peace and prosperity in a new age of the XWF. With every television screen tuned in to the XOTUS, there will be none who can challenge my reign!”
As the camera turns, the full scene within the Oval Office is revealed. Despite the devastation, the room is crowded with people listening to Charlie’s ramblings. The atmosphere is thick with anticipation, a surreal blend of reverence and fear. Each person seems frozen in time, as if unsure of what comes next in this new world where the XOTUS reigns supreme. The Oval Office, once a place of political power, now feels more like a war room, where the future is shaped by brute force rather than diplomacy.
“Now, you may be wondering: what’s that got to do with me? Well, I’ve assembled you all here to interview for a role in the cabinet of my XOTUSdency. If I’m going to unite the worlds of the Television and the X-treme under the rule of the XOTUS, then I need a strong team of advisors behind me.
Any questions?”
An experienced stateswoman in a pantsuit raises her hand.
“Yes, actually! What happened to Bacchu-“
“GUARDS!”
Two masked men with bullet proof vests immediately bust into the Oval Office and drag the woman kicking and screaming out of the room. They place a bag on her head before they close the doors to the Oval Office behind them.
“Remember, folks: no one questions the XOTUS.”
The camera slowly zooms in on The Nickleman, his eyes gleaming with a sinister intensity as he peers out from behind the rugged championship belt on the desk. Charlie’s lips curl into a menacing smile as the screen fades to black.
This is your big shot, Sharkboy. Don’t you know that?
It’s not everyday you get booked on PrimeTime against The Nickleman himself. Being booked against a living legend in the flesh is already a hell of a holiday gift: my name alone will draw more eyes to this match than you’ve ever dreamed of. It’s just the nature of this business. I’ve main evented more XWF Pay-Per-Views than you’ve appeared on: of course I’m the bigger star.
But then, what does your gracious XOTUS go and do?
I go and raise the stakes, just like I’ve always been known to do! Just like the people love me for. I saw that title belt you were parading around with, and I figured I’d go and get me one of my own before the match! Just so no one could say I was coming to Warfare empty handed. And now, I’m giving people the holiday gift that Thaddeus Duke was too scared to give them: a brutal bloodletting of the XWF’s most obnoxious new signing.
And I’m disguising it as a DOUBLE-CHAMPIONSHIP DEATHMATCH! Because I can do whatever I want to, whenever I want to! How clever, right?
You see Sharkboy, usually they have rules in TV title matches. Pesky little things like, ‘no biting’, ‘no eye poking’, ‘no baseball bats wrapped in barbed-wire’- you know, all the things that they make up to try and disadvantage wrestlers with my unique skillset.
But now that I’m the XOTUS, I get to do things differently around here. As long as I put my belt on the line, I can do whatever the fuck I want inside that ring and there’s no one who can stop me. Not Thaddeus Duke, not the referee, and certainly not you, Sharkboy!
You may be fresh out the ocean, but you should already realize that I’m the only one who makes waves each time I step through the XWF curtain. A double-championship match may seem like a huge milestone to you, but to me? This is just another Warfare. Remember, Sharko: I main evented Night 3 of Relentless on my first ever Pay Per View appearance- four years ago. Ever since that night I’ve been breaking records and challenging hall of famers.
Matches against Charlie Nickles don’t ‘make or break’ careers in the XWF: they only ever break them. But I don’t expect you to understand that…yet. So let me leave you with this: I know you have a saying down there in the ocean, ‘big fish eat little fish’- or what have you. But around these parts we live by a much simpler truth, a truth ALIAS taught me firsthand:
Big belt eat little belt.
It’s not everyday you get booked on PrimeTime against The Nickleman himself. Being booked against a living legend in the flesh is already a hell of a holiday gift: my name alone will draw more eyes to this match than you’ve ever dreamed of. It’s just the nature of this business. I’ve main evented more XWF Pay-Per-Views than you’ve appeared on: of course I’m the bigger star.
But then, what does your gracious XOTUS go and do?
I go and raise the stakes, just like I’ve always been known to do! Just like the people love me for. I saw that title belt you were parading around with, and I figured I’d go and get me one of my own before the match! Just so no one could say I was coming to Warfare empty handed. And now, I’m giving people the holiday gift that Thaddeus Duke was too scared to give them: a brutal bloodletting of the XWF’s most obnoxious new signing.
And I’m disguising it as a DOUBLE-CHAMPIONSHIP DEATHMATCH! Because I can do whatever I want to, whenever I want to! How clever, right?
You see Sharkboy, usually they have rules in TV title matches. Pesky little things like, ‘no biting’, ‘no eye poking’, ‘no baseball bats wrapped in barbed-wire’- you know, all the things that they make up to try and disadvantage wrestlers with my unique skillset.
But now that I’m the XOTUS, I get to do things differently around here. As long as I put my belt on the line, I can do whatever the fuck I want inside that ring and there’s no one who can stop me. Not Thaddeus Duke, not the referee, and certainly not you, Sharkboy!
You may be fresh out the ocean, but you should already realize that I’m the only one who makes waves each time I step through the XWF curtain. A double-championship match may seem like a huge milestone to you, but to me? This is just another Warfare. Remember, Sharko: I main evented Night 3 of Relentless on my first ever Pay Per View appearance- four years ago. Ever since that night I’ve been breaking records and challenging hall of famers.
Matches against Charlie Nickles don’t ‘make or break’ careers in the XWF: they only ever break them. But I don’t expect you to understand that…yet. So let me leave you with this: I know you have a saying down there in the ocean, ‘big fish eat little fish’- or what have you. But around these parts we live by a much simpler truth, a truth ALIAS taught me firsthand:
Big belt eat little belt.
We cut to a montage thrown together with quick, snappy cuts. The Nickleman, lounging casually behind the Resolute Desk, throws out questions with a smirk. Across from him, a masked luchador nervously adjusts his tie, stammering through a response about "immigration policy". In the next cut, a sinister-looking clown giggles maniacally about "trickle down economics" while The Nickleman rubs his temples, clearly unimpressed. Then, we cut to a clip of Charlie interviewing a bald man holding who's holding onto the corpse of a dolphin RFK-style.
![[Image: avatar_2357.png?dateline=1604316220]](https://xwf99.com/uploads/avatars/avatar_2357.png?dateline=1604316220){kind=avatar}
“Thank God you’re here! I’ve been holding open a spot in my cabinet just for you. I need someone with your wit and skill to watch my back. We have a big task in front of us. It won’t be easy to unite the entire XWF under my leadership, and we’re going to make more than our fair share of enemies along the way. That’s why I want to nominate you to be my Secretary of State! We’ve fought countless battles together, and I know you have what it takes to make our new nation stronger than ever!”
The Nickleman leans forward as he awaits Jimson’s reply. The bald beacon places his hands on his chin as he ponders the proposition.
“While it is true war is my domain and chaos is my religion, I can’t help but feel that my skillset could be better used elsewhere in your administration.”
“Well, what are you thinking? I trust your gut on this, Jim.”
Jim “The Jim” Jimson pulls a 400-page manifesto out of nowhere and plops it right down on the Resolute Desk. On the front page there is a stick figure drawing of someone decapitating a dolphin, and there is large text that reads ‘DOLPHIN DEFENSE STRATEGY (DDS)’.
“I’ve ran all the tests and it’s become clear that the #1 threat to your X-treme reign is from the aquatic sector. The dreaded dolphin. They are vicious and disgusting creatures who feast on broken dreams and shattered hopes. Working in pairs of two or three or even four, dolphins have the ability to coordinate incredibly complex plans. They can strike from anywhere, because almost every major city in America has aquariums and zoos that host these filthy mongrels. Beyond the shadow of a doubt, dolphins are the biggest threat to your new XOTUSdency.”
Jimson flips through the pages of his manifesto, highlighting various stick figure drawings of dolphins committing criminal conspiracies. Charlie looks on with great intrigue, clearly captivated by every page.
“But what about sharks?”
“What about them? Dolphins are the secret mafia bosses of the ocean, while sharks are just overly aggressive muscleheads. Sure, they have that whole “Jaws” thing, but dolphins? Dolphins have brains—evil genius brains wrapped in a cute, smiley package. They travel in pods, basically ocean biker gangs! Sharks are just swimming in a straight line, staring blankly ahead, while dolphins are having full-on telepathic strategy sessions! They're orchestrating takedowns with military precision and making it look effortless, meanwhile sharks are like, "I eat. I swim. Repeat." Oh, and did I mention dolphins can jump out of the water and do flips? That’s just them showing off. A shark would flop around on land like a fish out of water—because, well, it is.”
The Nickleman jumps out of his seat and extends a firm handshake to Jimson.
“Damn it Jim, you’re hired! You’re exactly the man I need in charge as my Secretary of Dolphins!”
The scene fades out as Jimson and Charlie excitedly shake hands while the 400-page ‘Dolphin Defense Strategy’ rests atop the Resolute Desk.
As the new XOTUS, it’s my sworn duty to bring law and order to the XWF.
The whole world heard my evening address. I’ve been out here promoting our match, raising the stakes, and creating a compelling story that everyone wants to see unfold. But Sharkboy’s barely said a peep since this match was booked! All anyone’s heard about the Sharkboy is that he’s a gay-basher and a woman-beater.
It’s all about controlling the narrative. Like those politicians do, you know?
While Sharkboy sat back on his laurels and let me do all the legwork of promoting our match, I’ve been weaving my tales and spinning these webs all across the XWF landscape. See normally, XWF management would never be stupid enough to let me get so close to so many championships at once: but with Sharkboy on the other side of that card? They don’t really have any other choice! See Sharkboy, normally they would know better than to let The Nickleman get his claws into so much gold at once: because The Nickleman doesn’t like to let go of the spoils of his wars, no matter what some ‘corporate rules’ say about ‘double champions’.
Sharkboy sat on his ass doing nothing while I singlehandedly turned this into the biggest match on Warfare! But with my antics and charades I’ve got the whole audience convinced that Sharkboy is nothing but a vile bigot. A misogynist, a homophobe! Assaulting strippers, bashing Thaddeus and his friends! Well…who’s going to complain about my sudden rule change now? Who’s going to come to the disgraced MMA fighter's defense, saying I -shouldn’t- take a barbed-wire baseball bat to his brain come Warfare?
As if I would give two shits about defending strippers and twinks?
I ain’t mad at cha’ for what you did, Sharkboy! Fuck, if the XWF ELO rankings had a ‘hate-crime’ stat I’m sure I’d top the charts! As far as I’m concerned, you’ve been putting up ROOKIE numbers on that front, Shark! I know you ain’t been on dry land for too long, but don’t you know I’m the guy that decapitated his own daughter on the XWF’s B-show?
So just think….what might I do to you on the A-show?
The whole world heard my evening address. I’ve been out here promoting our match, raising the stakes, and creating a compelling story that everyone wants to see unfold. But Sharkboy’s barely said a peep since this match was booked! All anyone’s heard about the Sharkboy is that he’s a gay-basher and a woman-beater.
It’s all about controlling the narrative. Like those politicians do, you know?
While Sharkboy sat back on his laurels and let me do all the legwork of promoting our match, I’ve been weaving my tales and spinning these webs all across the XWF landscape. See normally, XWF management would never be stupid enough to let me get so close to so many championships at once: but with Sharkboy on the other side of that card? They don’t really have any other choice! See Sharkboy, normally they would know better than to let The Nickleman get his claws into so much gold at once: because The Nickleman doesn’t like to let go of the spoils of his wars, no matter what some ‘corporate rules’ say about ‘double champions’.
Sharkboy sat on his ass doing nothing while I singlehandedly turned this into the biggest match on Warfare! But with my antics and charades I’ve got the whole audience convinced that Sharkboy is nothing but a vile bigot. A misogynist, a homophobe! Assaulting strippers, bashing Thaddeus and his friends! Well…who’s going to complain about my sudden rule change now? Who’s going to come to the disgraced MMA fighter's defense, saying I -shouldn’t- take a barbed-wire baseball bat to his brain come Warfare?
As if I would give two shits about defending strippers and twinks?
I ain’t mad at cha’ for what you did, Sharkboy! Fuck, if the XWF ELO rankings had a ‘hate-crime’ stat I’m sure I’d top the charts! As far as I’m concerned, you’ve been putting up ROOKIE numbers on that front, Shark! I know you ain’t been on dry land for too long, but don’t you know I’m the guy that decapitated his own daughter on the XWF’s B-show?
So just think….what might I do to you on the A-show?
We cut to another montage of Charlie interviewing candidates for his cabinet. We see him throwing resumes into the trash and screaming at a pair of well-dressed corporate executives. The Nickleman looks entirely exasperated throughout the search, until we cut to a clip of him sitting across from an exceptionally well-dressed man with a slightly effeminate Mexican accent.
![[Image: rs_600x600-190405163944-600-hollywood-me...center,top]](https://akns-images.eonline.com/eol_images/Entire_Site/201935/rs_600x600-190405163944-600-hollywood-medium-408-cesar-millan.jpg?fit=around%7C1200:1200&output-quality=90&crop=1200:1200;center,top)
The Nickleman sits with his feet up on the Resolute Desk and a pen in between his teeth. Charlie eyes Cesar Millan up and down before taking the pen out of his mouth to address the world famous dog trainer.
“So Cesar, what do you bring to the table that makes you deserving of a role in my cabinet? I know you’re a huge TV star with accolades galore, but to be totally honest -I’m- a huge TV star with accolades galore. So what makes you different?”
"First things first, Charlie. We need to establish who’s the pack leader here... but I’m getting a lot of chaotic energy from this room."
The Nickleman leans forward, clearly offended by Cesar’s remarks. Then, he gestures towards the championship belt placed upon the Resolute Desk.
"Your belt may show dominance, but do you have calm, assertive energy? Because without it, even the smallest chihuahuas may act unruly."
Charlie stands up and pounds on the Resolute Desk so hard that it shakes the championship belt.
“I have calm assertive energy! I am the most calm, most assertive XOTUS yet!”
Cesar Millan stays seated with his legs crossed in an effeminate manner.
“Charlie, I can see it in your eyes—you have a strong ‘inner dog.’ But the question is, are you the calm, assertive leader, or is your inner dog dragging you on the leash? Your ‘inner dog’ is powerful, but sometimes, even the most dominant dogs need boundaries. Right now, you’re all dominance and no discipline—you have to channel that energy into something more balanced."
The Nickleman cocks a curious eyebrow as he stands with an intimidating posture over Cesar and the desk.
“You’ve got alpha energy, but your ‘inner dog’ is out of control. Let me help you train it before you end up chasing your own tail in that ring!"
Millán chuckles at his own metaphor as Charlie sits down, trying to understand if he's being complimented or insulted.
“My ‘inner dog’, you say? Well I could maybe see a spot for you as my Secretary of the Interior, but…”
Charlie looks from side to side cautiously, as if he were making sure that the pair were truly alone.
“What do you know about training sharks?”
“Training a shark? It’s all about the energy you bring. Sharks are instinctual creatures, so you must establish calm, assertive leadership. The trick is to understand their prey-drive and channel that energy into something productive. If you stay calm, they will follow. They’re not the pack leader—you are. The key is respect, not fear. Sharks don’t respond to dominance the way land animals do, so it’s all about boundaries and focus. Give them purpose, and they won’t be aimlessly circling, they’ll be following you."
Cesar snaps his fingers confidently, as if even a shark couldn’t resist his famous technique. Charlie cracked a wild grin before standing over the Resolute Desk once again: but this time, he extended a firm handshake to Cesar.
“You’ve got the job! You know Cesar, you might be the first ever Secretary of the Interior to actually make a difference!”
The camera zooms in on the handshake between Charlie and Cesar, the dog whisperer’s calm energy meeting The Nickleman’s wild bravado. As the handshake lingers, the shot cuts quickly to a new scene.
![[Image: rudy6.jpg?ve=1&tl=1]](https://images.foxtv.com/static.fox5ny.com/www.fox5ny.com/content/uploads/2020/11/1280/720/rudy6.jpg?ve=1&tl=1)
The Nickleman sits across from a disheveled Rudi Giuliani, who adjusts his tie awkwardly, a half-empty glass of water in front of him. The contrast is stark, with Nickleman’s confidence now met by Giuliani’s nervous fidgeting. Sweaty dye drips down from Giuliani’s hair onto the Resolute Desk. Charlie looks downright offended.
“Are you going to clean that up?”
“Wh-wh-why yes, of course s-sir!”
Rudi looks around frantically for napkins or paper towels but finds neither. A resourceful lad, Rudk resorts to cleaning up the sweat from the table with his own tie. This amuses Charlie greatly, bringing a smile to his weathered face.
“So, Rudi- what qualifies you for a role in my XOTUSdency?”
“Well um, I actually have a lot of experience in government! I was the Mayor of New York City during 9/11 – not my fault, I swear-, and I was also an attorney for President Trump! And I stood by him during 1/6 – which was also not my fault, I swear.”
“Sounds like you’ve been involved in a lot of corrupt shit.”
“Well, I wouldn’t say that exactly! While I was disbarred as a lawyer for lying in court, I only did that because the President told me to!”
“So you’re the kind of corrupt shitbag who just does whatever his boss says, even if it screws over the American people and goes against every law on the books?”
Rudi looks nervously at Charlie before merely raising his shoulders and giving a meek shrug. The Nickleman smirks before leaning forward and extending a firm handshake to a clearly terrified Giuliani.
“Damn it, you’re hired Rudi!”
Rudi looks incredibly relieved as he shakes Charlie’s hand with earnest enthusiasm.
“Oh thank you, thank you so much Charlie! What role did you have in mind for me? I would love to be your Attorney General, but I’m not sure I’m technically legally ‘qualified’ for that position anymo-“
“You’re going to be my Secretary of Corruption!”
The enthusiasm drains from Rudi’s face in an instant as the camera fades to black.
Sharkboy talks like a dude playing a dude disguised as another dude. Seriously, is it Robert Downey Jr. inside that Sharksuit?
You’re playing up the minstrel role, and I’ll admit it: you play it well. But if I were you, I’d be downright embarrassed of myself. You’re selling out your dignity to play gangster on TV. But hell, I guess that’s fitting for our ‘TV’ champion: but after Warfare, everyone is going to see you for the fraud you are. You’re not a shark, you’re just a big minnow used to swimming in tiny ponds.
I don’t believe you’re a real ‘thug’, Sharkboy. I’ve seen real thugs firsthand, and I’m not talking Tommy fucking Wish. You’re not a thug of any stripe. You act like a suburban child’s imagined version of a black man. The racial stereotypes and cliched slang just ooze from your mouth with mocking insincerity. The only thing you’re ‘dripping’ with is inauthenticity. You can put all your 'hos' and 'pimps' and 'racks' back where you found them: in the imagination of the white marketing consultant who gave you this gimmick. Fuck, I bet the media training sessions must be absolutely humiliating. Do you have to ask your white consultants for permission to say the word
?
Sharkboy only got into the business for the clout, no doubt about it. He just wants to be a star and this is the only path his talent agency thought he had left. They tried to get him starring roles in shitty movies, but they all bombed. Then they tried to make him a big rap star, and his music was most definitely NOT 'the bomb'. Now, the only use they have left for him is selling out his body inside that ring.
He wasn't built for this business like I was.
The Shark couldn't find land in time to make War Games. This one-man vanity project probably knew he’d get picked in the last round and couldn’t handle the blow to his fragile ego. Or maybe his match against Mastermind was just so hard on his flippers that he needed all the rest he could get. But me? I’m running the gauntlet across all XWF TV programming. Warfare, War Games, Anarchy: you name it, I'm there! With that kind of travel schedule I may as well be the 'TV' champion already, because I'm the only XWF champion anyone sees on TV anymore!
Sharkboy had his little run with the TV title, but now Shark Week is over.
Daddy’s coming back to pick up the TV title for his third record setting reign.
You’re playing up the minstrel role, and I’ll admit it: you play it well. But if I were you, I’d be downright embarrassed of myself. You’re selling out your dignity to play gangster on TV. But hell, I guess that’s fitting for our ‘TV’ champion: but after Warfare, everyone is going to see you for the fraud you are. You’re not a shark, you’re just a big minnow used to swimming in tiny ponds.
I don’t believe you’re a real ‘thug’, Sharkboy. I’ve seen real thugs firsthand, and I’m not talking Tommy fucking Wish. You’re not a thug of any stripe. You act like a suburban child’s imagined version of a black man. The racial stereotypes and cliched slang just ooze from your mouth with mocking insincerity. The only thing you’re ‘dripping’ with is inauthenticity. You can put all your 'hos' and 'pimps' and 'racks' back where you found them: in the imagination of the white marketing consultant who gave you this gimmick. Fuck, I bet the media training sessions must be absolutely humiliating. Do you have to ask your white consultants for permission to say the word
?Sharkboy only got into the business for the clout, no doubt about it. He just wants to be a star and this is the only path his talent agency thought he had left. They tried to get him starring roles in shitty movies, but they all bombed. Then they tried to make him a big rap star, and his music was most definitely NOT 'the bomb'. Now, the only use they have left for him is selling out his body inside that ring.
He wasn't built for this business like I was.
The Shark couldn't find land in time to make War Games. This one-man vanity project probably knew he’d get picked in the last round and couldn’t handle the blow to his fragile ego. Or maybe his match against Mastermind was just so hard on his flippers that he needed all the rest he could get. But me? I’m running the gauntlet across all XWF TV programming. Warfare, War Games, Anarchy: you name it, I'm there! With that kind of travel schedule I may as well be the 'TV' champion already, because I'm the only XWF champion anyone sees on TV anymore!
Sharkboy had his little run with the TV title, but now Shark Week is over.
Daddy’s coming back to pick up the TV title for his third record setting reign.
The Nickleman sits at the Resolute Desk surrounded by his new cabinet picks: Jim Jimson, Cesar Millan, and Rudi Giuliani. With these men by his side, Charlie Nickles has set the stage for his X-treme Championship reign. His self-proclaimed ‘XOTUSdency’ will be guided by the brilliant minds gathered inside the ruined remains of the Oval Office. An XWF branded black-and-blue flag stands with pride in the corner of the room.
“Well boys, you did it! You all made it through our rigorous interview process and despite some concerns that came up on the background checks-“
Charlie looks menacingly towards his Giuliani while Jim Jimson clutches his Dolphin manifesto like it’s the nuclear football.
“You have all been confirmed to your positions in the cabinet of my XOTUSdency. Now, our mission is simple: we must do everything in our power to ensure that I walk away from my X-treme Championship reign with the briefcase. The XWF has placed their faith in me to deliver them another amazing X-treme Championship run. There have been many X-treme Champions before me, some great and some absolutely horrid, but it is our sacred mission to ensure that -my- X-treme Championship reign goes down in history as the greatest of all time.
Now, our first order of business: handling the Sharkboy."
Rudi coughs into his hands before speaking up.
"Yes, uhm- about that. I-I-uh, had a concern regarding your most recent statements against him..."
The Nickleman narrows his eyes and curls his fists into a ball as he stares his new Secretary of Corruption.
"Well, spit it out!"
Rudi adjusts his tie nervously as a ridiculous amount of dye begins sweating down his face- like, we're talking almost black-face levels of sweaty dye dripping down his wrinkled cheeks!
"Did you um...did you say a racial slur?"
The Nickleman dismisses the notion with a furious wave of the hand.
"Of course not! How dare you even speculate such heinous things about your XOTUS! I said an entirely different, non-offensive word and then I told them to censor it in post-production as an artistic choice! But it's not like you'd know anything about fine art, Rudi."
The Nickleman rolls his eyes in disgust with Rudi Giuliani.
"Now if my cabinet can actually be serious for a moment, we need to discuss the first challenger to my XOTUSdency. The Sharkboy thinks that he can just come into my home, into XWF Warfare, and walk out with two championship belts and all my life's work around his waist. I'm closer than I've ever been to taking complete control of the XWF, and the Shark plans on ending my reign as XOTUS just as soon as it starts.
We simply can't allow that.
I've already enacted Cesar's plan to establish calm, assertive dominance over the Shark. I have complete control over the narrative and conditions of this match. Sharkboy is on the defensive, following my lead so far: but there's one thing that still gravely concerns me about this matchup."
Charlie's cabinet members all lean over the Resolute Desk, each paying careful attention to the words of the XOTUS.
"How are they going to get a shark into the ring?"
Charlie's cabinet members all groan in unison as the camera zooms in on the smirking face of the XOTUS, his eyes gleaming with mischief. The scene fades to black as Charlie leans back in his chair, pondering the logistics of Warfare's marquee match with a calculating grin.