A Summer Never Seen


My name is Charlie Nickles, and I’m a Bastard.

Hi Charlie!

The once nefarious Nickleman strokes the stubble on his chin as he pops open a bottle of prescription pills. He throws a handful down his throat before looking out into the crowded assembly of ‘Bastards Anonymous’. Many of your favorite XWF stars are in attendance, but of course you don’t recognize them, because after all it’s Bastards Anonymous! The attendees sit in folding chairs, forming a circle around the room as they direct their eyes towards the one and only Charlie Nickles. The long-time Bastard slides the pill bottle into his pocket before running his hand over his freshly shaved head, collecting droplets of sweat before flicking them off to the side.

I’ve been a Bastard for as long as I can remember. Even when I was just a little one, I never respected my elders or learned to share. The first act of violence I remember committing was against one of my neighbor’s cats- an orange tabby. That fucking cat, man…it was always bothering me. Hissing at me in the streets, stealing pies from my family’s windowsill! And one day I just…snapped. I grabbed that scruffy little shit by the neck and chucked it into the fucking river. I can still hear its gurgled screams…I can still remember how hard that cat tried to fight the current. I can still remember how good it felt to watch the life fade from that pussy’s eyes.

Some of the assembled Bastards shift nervously in their chairs, clearly disturbed by the chilling tale from The Nickleman. Charlie drops his gaze from the BOB banners hanging on the wall down towards the rickety wooden floorboards.

I don’t know if I’ve ever been the same since that moment. The power I felt, having complete control and domination of another life- it was unlike anything I had ever felt before. So as I grew into a man, my violent tendencies grew with me.

I have never been who I wanted to be. I was never the favorite child, the talented pupil, or the womanizer I yearned to be. That’s why I could never break the glass ceiling once I became an XWF star, because I’ll never be a fan-favorite, I’ll never be ‘that guy’. Each and every time I was supposed to reach the pinnacle of this business, I was pushed to the side for a ‘brighter’ star. Raion Kido. Peter Vaughn. Thunder Knuckles. It happens time and time again, no matter how much blood I spill. No matter how many wins I stack up, I’ll never be allowed to have ‘the big one’.

The Nickleman shakes his head in shame as members of the crowd begin murmuring amongst themselves. One bastard in particular is crossing his arms and scowling at The Nickleman after his most recent comments. A man who used to wear a mask and still should wear a mask starts patting the disgruntled bastard’s back, helping him calm down.

I guess I’ve never been liked much by other people, and that’s why Vinnie Lane and Theo Pryce would never let me be the top guy in the XWF. It’s why those pussies at TRIAD had to get me out of there. They all think I’m a dirty savage- because I am the only one with the balls to tell it like it is. I can count on one hand the amount of real friends I’ve had in my life, and I don’t see a single one of them in this room.

Except you, of course.

The Nickleman gestures towards a bald-headed man wearing an ‘I HATE DOLPHINS’ t-shirt. Some of the bastards in the crowd seem offended by Charlie’s comments, but he pays their looks of betrayal no mind.

But that was okay with me, at least for a while. After I ruined Betsy Granger’s XWF career the people saw me as a village monster. They recoiled in disgust at the sight of me, at the mere mention of my name. They created great rumors and stories about the evils I had done, they painted me out to be some sort of fiend straight from hell- so I learned to relish in that role.

And it worked.

I rode this gravy train and soared to new heights, becoming the longest reigning TV champion ever, becoming the first person to hold championship gold in OCW, XWF, and IWW all at the same time, becoming the #1 draft pick for the second round of the TRIAD trials….I mean, which of you sorry Bastards wouldn’t want this career?

Charlie looked around the room and sure enough, most of the Bastards begrudgingly had to nod their heads in acknowledgement. Even though a couple of the most prestigious Bastards were able to turn their noses up and scoff at Charlie’s notion, it was undeniable that The Nickleman’s career was becoming hall of fame worthy.

I was willing to sacrifice everything and everyone to get what I wanted from this business. I took souls and ended careers. I turned mothers into widows and I relished in their tears. I tore apart entire families…even my own. I thought it would all be worth it in the end, I thought that I didn’t need anyone but myself. I believed that every broken man and mutilated woman I left behind would be justified in the end.

But once I got to the top of the mountain I looked down at the path below, and I dropped to my knees in shame of the pain I had wrought.

A single tear rolls down Charlie’s face as the bastards in attendance look around in confusion. When had anyone known Charlie to show remorse?

My own daughter was snuffed out beneath the bottom of my boot. Not only did I end her wrestling career, I took away her entire future. Her body is still laying there, cold, at the bottom of the ocean….

Filicide appeared to be a step too far, even for some of the raunchiest bastards in the crowd. A man who used to wear a mask and still should wear a mask fidgeted with his fingers as he tried to tune out the heinous tale being told. The only one seemingly unbothered by this confession is the bald, dolphin-hating man seated next to Charlie. As the camera pans to the bald man, he smiles and casually shrugs.

It wasn’t worth it! None of it was worth it! I turned myself into the monster they all saw believing it would make me stronger, but all it did was ruin my life! Now I have no one, I have NOTHING! When I go home I have no one waiting for me, not even their ghosts will haunt me! I became a wrestler because I wanted to become great, because I wanted to change the way everyone saw me! Because I wanted to provide for my family!

But I don’t have a family anymore…I don’t have anything anymore…

BOB is like a family, Chuck!

FUCK BOB!

This so-called ‘family’ has never done anything but LEECH off my talent and success. You all pushed and prodded me along every step of the way, telling me to unleash my evil and wreak hell on the roster. Everytime I crossed the line you told me to go a step further and I listened, because I thought we were all in this together….but we were never in this together. I was only ever a tool for you to use on your way to greatness. As soon as you made this tool too toxic to use, you threw it in the trash and left it to rot.

Before BOB I had a REAL family, I had daughters and a son, I had something to live for. And now look at me….you’ve turned me into a disgusting beast.

This is all your fault!

The crowd recoils in shock as The Nickleman points an accusatory finger at the Bastard seated directly across from him. Of course, this is Bastard’s Anonymous, so you don’t know who that former Universal champion is! But you know this much: they look pissed at Charlie’s words.

It wasn’t me that ended Robyn’s career…it was the monster that you turned me into. And I won’t let you use me anymore.

I QUIT!

The crowd gasps as Charlie flips over his chair and storms out of the assembly room. Charlie kicks open the metal door, dislodging it from its hinges as he bursts into the hallway. He immediately throws his fist into the wall, creating a sizable hole before leaning against that very same wall and slinking down to the floor. Charlie cradles his shaved head in his hands as he feels the heavy burdens of shame shaking his fortitude. He reaches into his pocket, pulling out an orange bottle of pills.

Hey bro, so like, what was that all about?

Charlie sniffles and holds back tears as he looks up at a familiar face in the hallway. The bald-headed man in an ‘I HATE DOLPHINS’ t-shirt is casually munching on a BOB-branded slim jim as he stands over The Nickleman.

Are you like, going to become a pussy or something now? I’m not sure the rest of BOB is going to like that.

Didn’t you hear me, Jim?! I quit BOB! I quit!

The bald man takes another bite of his slim jim before squinting at Charlie and cocking his head to the side. The Nickleman turns away from his compatriot before downing another handful of pills.

Are you feeling okay? You’re not acting like your normal, psychopathic self. You’re actually kind of like, being a total buzzkill dude. Are you sure those things you keep popping are going to help?

The Nickleman sighs as he remains seated, leaning back against the wall as he closes his eyes to the world and throws his now empty pill bottle against the wall.

No….I haven’t felt okay in a long, long time. My head is spinning. I don’t know who I am anymore, or what I want…I’m losing all sense of time, purpose, and self. I don’t know what’s going on…

I think you just need to eat a snickers, Charlie! You’re not you when you’re hungry.

The bald man squats down and offers a bite of the slim jim to his downtrodden compatriot. Charlie opens his eyes and politely waves the meat stick away from his face. A sudden look of clarity flashes across Charlie’s face.

I think I need to see a Doctor.

Charlie lifts himself off the floor and pats the bald man on the shoulder before casually walking down the hallway and turning a corner. The camera remains fixated on the bald man as he finishes the last few bites of his slim jim. After he licks his fingers he puts his hands on his hips and smiles to himself.

I think this problem is going to fix itself!

The camera fades to black as the bald man casually pulls another slim jim out of his pocket and walks back into the Bastard’s Anonymous meeting.








The camera cuts to the familiar den of a Doctor, who rests upon a cushioned brown chair as a fire blazes in the chimney just behind him. The flames flicker far and wide, grasping out in all directions, barely able to be contained. The walls of his den shift and shake, moving and writhing as if they were in great discomfort.  A humming lull of desperate screams slithers up from the floorboards as our good Doctor takes a long drag from a cigar. The camera pans out to reveal that The Nickleman is laying down on a couch across from the doctor, resting peacefully as he attends his first therapy session in quite some time.

Why do you do such heinous things, Charlie?

The Nickleman lays his shaved head atop his calloused hands as he carefully considers the question.

Well, I used to do it for fun- just to get a rise out of people. Especially those who I thought deserved it. But when I joined BOB it became expected of me, a part of my brand, and I had to keep up appearances. The violence, the degradation, the utter depravity: it all became so commonplace and routine that I didn’t even think twice about what they asked me to do anymore. It was just a part of my daily habits, just a part of who I was. I was BOB’s ultimate machine fueled by hatred and anger, and my tank was never empty.

Doc carefully considers Charlie’s response as he takes another puff of his cigar. The good Doctor jots down a few notes as Charlie shifts around anxiously on the couch.

I’m telling you Doc, they made me into the monster I am! Before I joined Bobby and Tee-Kay, I was just a family man trying to make an honest living! Was I X-treme? Sure. Was I vile? Of course! But I wasn’t like this, I still had a shred of humanity in my soul. I still had my children. But BOB ripped them away from me. I will never forgive them for what they’ve turned me into!

Doc nods along as Charlie carries on his diatribe. Once Charlie finishes, Doc leans forward in his chair and makes direct eye contact with The Nickleman.

How curious. Charlie, I was merely asking why you have spent the better part of this summer performing on Anarchy under some nonsense pseudonym. You shaved your head, shaved your beard, and seemingly urinated on your own face to create some grandiose golden image of a 'Pariah'- but I'm not even sure you remember any of that these days. Not with all that 'self-medicating' you've been getting up to. 

But your response brings us to a much more enlightening question: do you really burn with hatred for BOB, for the world, or only for yourself?

Charlie pauses as the Doctor raises a quizzical eyebrow. Charlie shit his eyes and bit his lip, probing his mind for the answer. He didn’t like what he found.

I-I….don't understand what you mean.

How interesting. You don’t always believe the things you say, do you Charlie?

Well, of course I do…

But, how could you? Surely it wasn’t BOB that turned you into a monster. You were attacking the Betsy Granger’s and Atara Themis’s of the world long before you ever joined BOB.

But those women deserved it!

Doc cocks his head to the side as he stares past Charlie’s eyes, into his long-lost soul. 

But did they, Charlie? Or were they just the easiest victims?

Well, they…but….but I would never have done something like that to my daughter! Her death is BOB’s fault!

But how did they do that, Charlie? Did anyone tell you to hurt her? Is BOB your God, your master?

Well, no, but-

How interesting.

The doctor makes a few more scribbles on his pad before the agonizing screams from below increase in intensity.

Quiet, you mutts! Can’t you hear I’m with a client?!

Doc stomps on the floorboards and the screams reduce to a murmur. Charlie looks towards the sound of the screams with suspicion, but ultimately decides to pay no mind to the people beneath the floorboards. After all, he’s here for therapy! Not to play superhero.

Sorry for their disturbance, Charlie.

Charlie sits up and wipes some sweat from his brow before trying to lighten the mood.

It’s okay, Doc- I know you’re a kinky guy. Who or what you have tied up down there is none of my business!

Doc looks unamused.

They aren’t mine, Charlie. Those are the screams of the sorry souls you’ve taken. It’s best to just ignore them for the moment and carry on with our session as planned. It does you no good crying over spilt blood.

Charlie looks back down towards the floorboards with his mouth agape, the sudden realization overtaking him. The good Doctor sets his notepad down on the nearby end table before looking back to Charlie.

But that’s enough fun and games. Now it’s time for us to really delve into the inner workings of your mind, my good boy. So tell me, Charlie: why did you kill your daughter?

Charlie stood up in a heat and flailed his hands at the incendiary remark.

It was their fault I didn’t want to!!

Doc ignores Charlie’s answer, asking another question immediately.

Did you think you were your daughter’s long-lost angel, saving her from this wretched world?

Charlie Nickles starts pacing around the room with his hands on his head, growing increasingly agitated. Doc, meanwhile, continues puffing calmly on his cigar.

I was just doing what I thought I needed to do to keep BOB on top, to tie up any loose ends!

That’s not true Charlie, and you know it. You didn’t kill her for BOB. You killed her for yourself.

Doc takes another puff of his cigar before looking at it and realizing how short it has become.

Do you think you’ll be reunited with her in heaven, Charlie?

Doc puts the cigar out in an ashtray as he looks back towards Charlie.

Or have you realized your soul is destined for damnation?

I don’t know, I don’t know, I don’t know! It’s their fault!

Doc rolls his eyes as Charlie paces around the room like a madman, breathing heavily and sweating profusely.

I’m not here to judge you Charlie, I’m here to help you. You’re a sick man, and it won’t be easy to heal your rotten core. You can blame BOB, you can blame the world, you can blame society for all your misdeeds and wrongdoings: but that won’t bring her back. That won’t change what you’ve done.

The Nickleman buries his face in his hands.

"So what should I do, Doc? How could I ever be redeemed?"

The Doctor leans back with a look of mild amusement.

"Well first things first, my dear Charlie, I fear you will have to get off those 'soma snacks' you've been chowing down on. And then, you'll have to stop talking to sex dolls and pretending they are the Good Doctor."

"Wait, Doc- what the fuck?"

As the camera pans around the room, we are presented with a new viewing vantage. No longer caught within the confines of Charlie's soma-riddled consciousness, the viewers can now see this scene for what it is: a drug addict rambling mindlessly to his personalized Doc D'ville sex doll.