Oh Scruffy, come here and lick this mess up.

The lion on a red leash walks in and begins lapping up the blood as it spills out onto the wooden floorboards. The red leash is connected to a post on a concrete platform drilled into the floor. A large bone from something sits next to the post, displaying all the marks of recent chewing.

The first for Robbie Bourbon.

The second for Robbie Main.

The Nickleman makes another cut on his chest just below the first. He grimaces slightly as the rusty blade peels his skin like a blood orange.

Another one for precious little Lacklan.

He cuts himself with the rusty razor.

And for the good Doctor.

He cuts himself with the rusty razor.

For Demos.

The Nickleman makes the deepest cut yet as a large hunk of flesh is forcefully peeled off his chest with the razorblade. The lion takes a break from lapping up the fresh blood to chew on the torn skin. By now Charlie’s entire upper-body is painted in a suit coat of blood.

I can take the cuts of life and keep on standing, over and over again. No matter how much blood I lose I will not fall. No matter how much they take from me, I will never fold. I have been down this road many times before. I will go down this road many times again. But not this time.

Charlie Nickles takes a break from his soliloquy to peel another line of skin from his body. By now he’s made so many cuts that he has to take some flesh from his beer gut. He grimaces as the cut is made, his crimson covered hand shaking with every drag of the blade. The lion is chewing on each layer of flesh as it drops to the blood-soaked floorboards.

Another defeat, another cut.

Charlie shakes his head as he flings some bloody, hairy flesh clumps off the razorblade.

Can the clown manage the cuts of life as I have? Can he take the cuts, over and over again, while still standing strong? Can he be stoic while his body leaks?

Could he take….another cut?

The Nickleman moves the razor up to his neck and drags it right next to his jugular vein, drawing a fair amount of blood. He begins rubbing the nickels in his other hand against his scarlet abject as it drains from the open wounds

He lost the X-treme championship and he disappeared for weeks. He lost to Raion Kido and he disappeared for months. He loses to The Nickleman, he might well disappear for good. The cuts will simply be too deep for the boy to bare.

Especially in a last blood match.


If Cage wants to clown around again tomorrow night after my match I’m happy to oblige. I’ll help him get that beet red circus nose by rubbing his face in a pool of his own spillage like a scolded dog! Like Scruffy!

Charlie looks down at the lion happily licking up all the blood and flesh dropping to the floor.

Not you, the other Scruffy. The old one. He reminds me a lot of Cage, you know? I’m noticing more similarities by the second. Just like ol’ Scruffy, this little pup doesn’t know when to mind his own fucking business. Just like ol’ Scruffy, this incontinent pooch is shitting himself in fear of a Nickleman’s reprisal. Cage is about to make me bust out the old Nickles family recipe for mutt medley. The #1 ingredient? 2 gallons of bad blood.

Charlie cracks a cocky smile to the camera as he goes to drag the razor over his crimson coated chest.

One more fo-

The rusty razor finally breaks on The Nickleman’s tough skin. The blades fall to the ground while the handle stays in Charlie’s hand. In lieu of the razor, Charlie begins rubbing that handful of nickels over his serrated flesh. After he’s content with the amount of scarlet ichor coating the iron coins he stuffs them back into the pants pocket from whence they came.

Well then…I suppose Cage Coleman will have to finish this job for me. I wonder if he’s even up to it?

Charlie smiles as he leans down to pat the lion gently on the head. The lion ignores the pats and continues consuming Charlie’s blood and flesh from off the floor.

Yo! I finally got this VHS tape fixed up!

You hear that, Scruffy? Your uncle Marf was able to fix that tape you chewed up last week! You’re a lucky bastard for that, Scruffy. You sure gave that dealer the ass-chewing of a lifetime, you were a very bad boy for putting him in the ER! If Marf wasn’t able to revive the tape I would have had to beat the lionpiss out of you!

Charlie finishes petting his lion and stands back up. He walks over and picks up a plain black t-shirt off of a chair in the corner. The Nickleman slips the shirt over his marred skin before giving his pet lion one set of final instructions.

Alright Scruffs, you be good in here. Keep licking up my ichor and you’ll definitely grow up to be big and strong. Oh, and don’t have any fucking accidents while I’m gone!

Yo, come on! I got the popcorn ready!

Coming!

Charlie leaves the lion tied up to the post as he walks through the door and into a hallway. Charlie quickly zigs and zags a couple of times before he comes upon Marf sitting on a couch in front of a flatscreen TV with a VHS player hooked up to it. Directly in front of the couch there is a coffee table with a few empty beer cans and a big bucket of buttery popcorn. Nickles plops down next to Marf and puts his feet up on the table as he grabs the popcorn and starts going to town.

You think these are actually going to be worthwhile matches?

They don’t have worthwhile wrestling in Japan, Marf. Not since the fall of the Red Sun Empire.

That’s a good point. This shit is probably going to be unbearable.

Only one way to find out.

Yep.

Marf grabs the remote off the arm of the couch and presses play while Charlie continues to gulf down the popcorn. By the time the opening credits of the tape roll across the screen the popcorn bag is already half empty. Random Japanese script flashes on the screen with English subtitles below it that read ‘Cage Coleman’s Greatest Matches’. Then, this video is played in full by Marf and Charlie.


After the tape plays the ending credits begin to roll across the screen with the most fitting background music imaginable.




Well, that fucking sucked.

Japan is fucking weird, man!

Marf turns towards Charlie with a look that says ‘r u fkn srs bro?’. Nickles, however, is scrounging through the empty popcorn bucket for crumbs while he reflects on the trainwreck he just watched.

I guess Cage is too small to do proper sumo wrestling, but he just looked ridiculous in that fatsuit! I can’t believe they made him wear that in order to compete! Do they make Raion Kido wear a fatsuit to compete in Japanese wrestling, too?! Man those people are weird! I wonder if it’s all the radiation from those bombs we dropped…eh, whatever.

Nickles shrugs before tossing the empty popcorn bucket over his shoulder. He then turns back towards Marf while shaking his head.

But what’s with all the blowjobs? And when did Edward from Twilight become a wrestler? And can vampires even get hard, or was Cage just licking and stroking on a soft cock for hours on-end? I mean, vampires don’t have beating hearts, so how would they even get hard-ons? And if Chris Page was hanging out with Edward, does that mean Vita has turned Chris Page into a vampire, too?

Charlie shakes his head in complete confusion as he tries to understand what the hell he just watched.

Wrestling from other countries just doesn’t make any sense to me, Marf. But you’re Canadian, so maybe you understand all this weird foreign shit! What the fuck was happening on that tape?


Marf facepalms while shaking his head. After a few seconds of second-hand embarrassment pass, Marf finally brings his hand off his face and reluctantly engages Charlie on this question.

Dude…he was just trying to rip on you the whole time.

Wait, what do you mean? What are you talking about? There wasn’t any trash talk on that tape, he wasn’t ripping anyone!

No dude, it’s like, a story about your life and shit from Coleman’s perspective.

Like what, are you saying he was trying to be me or something?

Yeah, pretty clearly…

So in all of Cage’s greatest sumo matches he pretended to be me? How the hell did they even know who I was over in Japan?

Fucking aye, Charlie. That wasn’t a tape of great Japanese wrestling matches. Cage Coleman doesn’t have any of those! Shit, he doesn’t even have any great American matches! No one has ever seen a good Cage Coleman match! That whole tape was just a scripted performance!

You’re telling me his greatest matches are the scripted ones where he pretends to be me?

Pretty much, bro.

Charlie shakes his head from side to side.

Pathetic. That script had more porn than wrestling in it! Jesus Christ, how many dicks did Cage have to suck just to PRETEND to walk in my shoes?!

A lot, bro.

How many cocks do you think he’d suck to ACTUALLY be me? I bet it would be at least one hundred cocks sucked for every main event booking. Honestly though, the dude seemed to be pretty into it. Whoever wrote that script knew how to bring the most authentic performance possible out of Cage.

I’m pretty sure he wrote the script himself.

Wait, you’re telling me that CAGE had the idea to get on his knees and suck limp vampire cock to promote himself? I thought this was something the Yakuza were making him do to cover his debts!

Nah man, it said on the back of the tape that it was written by, directed by, and starring Cage Coleman.

God damn that dude likes sucking dick so much he wrote an entire story about it. I bet him and Eobard Stone would get along!

Marf can’t help but snicker at that dig.

Hey man, he probably likes sucking dick almost as much as your ex-wife!

Shit, probably! You know what, if he wants to fuck Connie he just has to ask me for her number. I heard she’s letting anyone put their knuckles in her nowadays!

Ah shit, what’s her number?

Ehhh I don't think she’s your type, Marf. She wouldn’t wear a wolf tail and ears for me, so I doubt she’ll do it for you.

A shame.

Truly.

Nickles and Marf nod in agreement on the matter. Then, Marf turns towards Charlie with a curious look.

Say, where’s your girl at? I haven’t seen you with her all day.

Oh, Goldi has been very busy today. She hasn’t had much time for pleasantries at all.

Oh, your championship belt has been busy? Right, that makes sense.

Charlie, oblivious to the sarcasm and irony, carries on his explanation.

Oh yeah, she’s definitely got her hands full right now. She’s out in the back helping Esmerelda freshen up and get changed out for the next show.

Bro, I never know what the hell you’re saying: but right now I REALLY have no idea what the hell you’re talking about!

Nickles gets up off the couch and motions for Marf to follow after him.

Well shit, lemme’ show ya’!

Marf shrugs and gets off the couch himself. The two bastards navigate through a few twists and turns before coming to a big glass sliding door. Nickles grabs the handle and slings the door open as he leads Marf out into a luscious garden filled with rows of flowers, towering trees, and finely shaped shrubbery. Then Charlie randomly stops and drops down to one knee.

What the hell are you doing now?

Charlie begins digging a small hole in the ground with his hands.

I just realized: this is the perfect spot for a Nickeltree!

Marf raises a curious eyebrow.

A Nickeltree?

The Nickleman reaches into his pocket and pulls out the blood-soaked coins. He stuffs the nickels into the hole before placing the recently removed dirt on top of them.

This is the same way the government grows their nickels, you know.

I don’t know.

Well, I guess that makes sense. The Canadian government probably doesn’t have the same technology as we do in the states. That’s probably why your economy is smaller, you can’t grow as many nickels.

Charlie Nickles stands back up and continues leading Marf through the garden like nothing happened. After the bastard’s brief walk through the beautiful garden they arrive at a little shed tucked away in a patch of weeping willow trees. Charlie pulls a key out of his pocket before sliding it into a lock on the frame of the door. The Nickleman twists the key and returns it to his pocket before he pulls the lock open and pushes in the door to the shed.

You ladies have a visitor! I hope you’re decent!

Nickles and Marf step into a very cluttered and very tiny shed. There are various gardening tools hanging from the walls and ceiling. One of Charle’s old hos is even laying on a small table in the middle of the shed, with Goldi right beside her!

What the fuck is this…

This, my good friend, is what they call surgical reconstruction down in Beverly Hills.

Marf just shakes his head as he looks at the mess on the table. The TV championship belt is laying next to the Heavymetalweight championship belt and a shit ton of various crafting supplies. The gray strap of the HMW belt has been shoddily colored red with both crayons and markers. One of the side plates and half of the belt’s central plate is spray-painted yellow.

Did you run out of spray paint or something?

I don’t know, I’m letting Goldi control this whole process. She’s the make-up artist, and you know what, I think she’s doing a bang-up job so far!

Uh huh, yeah, your belt did all of this.

She’s so talented, isn’t she?

She’s more talented than Cage Coleman, I’ll give her that. But why are y'all even bothering with all this? You’re just making a huge mess in here that I know you will never clean up.

We have to resort to any means necessary to keep the hands of the adulterers off of my Goldi. Those sick fucks in management want me to whore my Goldi out at the pay per view! It’s unacceptable, Marf, and I won’t let it happen!

Marf just laughs. He’s not taking any of this seriously, but Charlie’s so worked up that he can’t even tell.

I will never let anyone separate me from my Goldi! I don’t care if it’s Cage or if it’s Theo: no one is allowed to touch my baby without her expressed written consent! She’s like the NFL god damn it, except even bigger and more famous! I’m not giving this title belt back to the managers, not now and not ever.

So I’m dressing Esmeralda up like Goldi! The management team around here is pretty fucking stupid so I doubt they’ll even notice. Shit, those motherfuckers can’t even spell my name right half the time- there’s no way they’ll be able to see through this clever design! Even I’m having a hard time telling which belt is which right now!

Marf stops laughing and just looks at Charlie with concern.

Wait, you seriously can’t tell which of these is which?

Fuck, how am I supposed to! Goldi did such a good job they look like twins now!

This looks like dogshit, Charlie. You’re not going to fool anyone with this.

Charlie turns towards Marf with a furrowed brow and a snarl.

Oh yeah? Well what the hell do you know! I’m a multi-time Heavymetalweight champion, I know all about sneakery and trickery!

Dude, we had like five feuds over this belt! I know about sneaky tricks too, and this ain’t one of them!

Nickles places his hand under his chin as he considers Marf’s point. Charlie looks back at the two championship belts while squinting as much as he possibly can.

I’m still not seeing a difference.

Marf rolls his eyes and steps up to the makeshift crafting bench with the belts. Swaysons starts going through the various crafting materials much to the dismay of The Nickleman, who places a firm hand on Marf’s shoulder.

Hey- what do you think you’re doing!

Marf turns back towards Charlie with a wholesome smile.

I’m helping you fix this up correctly. While Goldi is clearly a great plastic surgeon, I think her lack of opposable thumbs might make it difficult for her to get the fine details right.

Oh. That actually makes sense.

It sure does, Chuckster.

Charlie lets his hand fall off of Marf’s shoulder. At the exact same time, Marf places a friendly hand on Charlie’s shoulder.

Now let’s sneak a few staples and pins into this thing!

The bastards share a hearty chuckle as the scene fades to black.