Please Login or Register to get full access to the forums.

Lost Password?
Current time: 03-29-2024, 05:32 AM (time should display as Pacific time zone; please contact Admin if it appears to be wrong)                                                                


X-treme Wrestling Federation »   » Archives » "Savage Saturday Night" RP Board
A Day In The Life Of The Former Champion
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
11-05-2021, 10:51 PM




Touching You Makes Me Feel Alive


The former champion starts his day caught in a dream. He’s flying high, higher than he’s ever flown- he’s soaring through the clouds, he’s ascending into space….before he lands back down in the middle of the ring with an elbow drop! The former champion’s long brown hair covers his eyes as he hooks the leg of the ginger woman beneath him. The referee counts to three before raising the burly man’s hand and presenting him the most beautiful belt in the world. The former champion greedily grabs the belt and holds it against his face, pressing the gold to his skin as he sobs in front of tens of thousands of screaming fans.

“I’ve missed you so much, baby. How have you been without me? I’ve been so lovesick without you, I’ve missed you every day. I can’t even put into words how much you meant to me….I missed you so much. But we’re back together now! Finally, we’re together again, and this time I won’t let anyone take you away from me!”


BRRRRRRRNNNGGGG BRRRRRRRRNNNNNGGGGG BBBBRRRRRRRNNNGGGGG


The merciless ringing of the alarm clock forces the former champion back to this cruel world. A look of craving and depravity sets into the creases on the bearded man’s face as he awakes in a pile of dirty clothes lazily thrown onto a mattress. He rubs his short hair with a calloused hand as he speaks longingly beneath this breath…..

“I've slept so long without you….”




Walking, Waiting

Alone Without A Care




The former champion starts his day off the same way he starts off every day: with a brisk walk to the nearest ATM. He tucked his hands into the pockets of his jacket as he tucked his scarfed chin into the warm padding on his chest. The frosty winds nipped at his nose as the icy sidewalks threatened to trip him with every step. Yet still, the former champion soldiered on.

He couldn’t help but feel a burning jealousy every time he saw one of those brats drive daddy’s Cadillac down the rocky roads. The former champion wasn’t able to duck fast enough to avoid the street slush their tires slung his way- at least, he wasn’t fast enough to duck it anymore. Every time they sped past him they left him with a face full of cold brown snow and a heart full of red hot hatred. Maybe one day he’ll be able to afford one of those limitless motors, he tells himself. Yeah, maybe one day.

The former champion always makes it to the ATM before the tellers open up the lobby. That’s the way he prefers it, the former champion hates to be seen as the impoverished vermin he fears he has become. He runs his card through the machine and punches all of his information into the ATM before closing his eyes. As the ATM loads his financial report the former champion looks up to the skies and thinks back to the glory days. The days he was able to walk into the bar and pick up everyone’s tabs. The days he was so flushed with cash it would just fall out of his pockets when women were taking down his pants. Those days seemed so far ago, but really, they started less than a year ago. Those days were so close that the former champion could still imagine what the $100 bills felt like between his fingers….


Touching You Makes Me Feel Alive



The former champion opens his eyes and slowly lowers his gaze until it’s even with the ATM. He sighs softly as he tucks his card back into his pocket. The XWF only pays him three weeks after every show, but still he checks everyday for unexpected bonuses and surprise gifts from the bosses. Back when he was champion, they seemed to toss him a couple thousand every week. The former champion could really use that money a lot more right now.

He went to turn away from the ATM, when suddenly he paused…..before coming back and punching through the screen of the machine! The ATM suddenly goes dark as little spurts of electricity shoot out through the newly exposed wiring near the user interface. The former champion grunts in satisfaction before turning away from the machine and starting the long walk back to his homely haven. He tucks his hands into the pockets of his winter jacket as he steps back onto the sidewalk just as penniless as he was before. It seems his frosty excursion was all for naught. He can’t help but let a long string of curses spill out from behind his beard as he tucks his chin back into his chest padding.

"What the fuck am I even doing all this for? Since when did I become Vinnie Lane’s little whipping boy? I didn’t sign up to substitute his class of misfits and weirdos for NO MONEY! How am I supposed to turn my water back on with NO MONEY?! Fuck! The prick could at least have given me some damn X-bux. The strippers still think those are good for something, especially when you tuck them into their G-strings in the dark! Greedy fucking cunt.

And where the hell is Jefferson in all of this? Who was keeping up with Anarchy’s payroll while Vinnie was out of the office? This is bullshit! I have a half a mind to string that salty haired cum receptacle up his feet and take whatever falls out of his pockets! I bet his pockets got a lot more spare change in them than mine do! Good for nothing shitstain in a suit.

I have three quarters of a mind to fill out a life insurance form making myself Osira’s primary beneficiary before next weekend. I think with a few forged signatures and well-placed threats I can get it done in time! Besides, what does Atara need the money for? She can just whore herself out some more if she ever needs some quick cash! But I’m not pretty like her, so I don’t even have access to that easy money- but fucking feminists want to cancel The Nickleman, my fucking god. Karen fucking Cunt helped them cancel the Marf show and now they want to cancel my fucking gas and electricity. I’m supposed to believe that’s a coincidence? Bullshit."


Charlie shakes his head from side to side in unguided anger as he spits a fat loogie onto the ground next to a frozen dog turd.

"I’m fixing to teach that pretty little bitch a thing or two about a thing or two next Saturday night. Maybe I should start by beating some manners and some fucking respect into her. I know all about women like Osira Themis, I read about them in the news every day. Just the other day I was reading something from Barstool Sports about this whole Dave Portnoy thing.

Apparently these young little chickens went into his coop to get dicked down. I guess now they’re saying he spit in their mouths and pulled their hair while he was giving them what they wanted. I guess they didn’t like that...but they never said no, they never said stop. Apparently, they’re now saying, they felt degraded."


Charlie stops in his snowy tracks. He looks deadpan at the unsuspecting camera before widening his eyes, opening his mouth, and making an exaggerated face.

"Well, duh! Of course they felt degraded, they’re stupid teenaged sluts going over to some grown man’s house to suck him off and ride his cock just because he has money and some twitter followers! You clearly aren’t worth anything as a human being if you think intimate access to your body only requires a blue checkmark on twitter. So what he pulled your hair, called you a dumb whore, and choked you senseless? He was just showing you how he really feels about you, and I think that’s what lovemaking is really all about.

They can run off and complain that they felt used and abused, but who’s going to be sympathetic to their pleas? They put themself in that position, they wanted to be degraded, fucked, and forgotten. It was going to make them feel important to have a C list celebrity inside them! But they wanted to walk away feeling satisfied and proud….well newsflash, ladies: it was never about you! You are as replaceable and interchangeable as they come. Dave Portnoy was the active ingredient that makes the whole shebang go."


Charlie rolls his eyes in annoyance at the victims of Dave’s sexual aggressions before stepping forward and recentering the conversation around himself.

"This whole Dave Portnoy thing….

It’s a real Charlie-Osira situation.

Osira can run her mouth off and complain about the way I treat her. She can whine about how I speak to her, about how I don’t respect her. She can cry all she wants about how I’m going to spit in her mouth and pull her hair. She’s going to be able to say with video proof that I used and abused her body…..but who’s going to be sympathetic to her pleas? She put herself in this position by agreeing to face the Nickleman on Savage. That’s just asking for it.

When you agree to go toe to toe with the Nickleman you’re signing up to be degraded, fucked over, and quickly forgotten. I understand why Osira would take this booking against me- she’s going to feel really important when she’s being pounded by the best TV champion of all time. But if she wants to walk away from this match feeling proud and satisfied with her performance….well newsflash, Osira: it ain’t gonna happen! She’s just an interchangeable challenger: I could have been paired off with anyone in that first round, Osira isn’t special just because I’m going to rip through her first. Charlie Nickles is the active ingredient that makes the whole TV division go, baby!"


Charlie smiles to himself as he steps off the sidewalk and onto the dirt path leading towards a condemned home in the distance.

"That stupid little slut might even be thinking this could be her big break. Oh the naivete of the youth. As if that useless nincompoop could ever take down the big, bad Nickleman. She’s green as grass! One little hit from the weed whacker and she’s going down! Shit, she hasn’t wrestled in months. She has a lot of rust to shake off! And god, even when that rust shakes off and she gets into top form...she still won’t be very good! I mean fuck, she couldn’t even post a winning record when she was working the opening shift for Anarchy! How’s a little trick like that ever going to take down the baddest pimp in the game?"

Charlie nods to himself confidently as a shivering smile begins to freeze into place on his face. He keeps walking forward, one foot after the other, towards a ramshackle house just at the end of this dirt driveway.

"There’s no chance that wrestling is Osira’s life calling. She just got dragged into this sport by the better Themis! Dragged along from spot to spot, show to show, just to help Fatty Vaggy Atty get over with the fans a little more! Osira must have interests outside of wrestling that she values more, that inspire her to a greater degree. I mean, why else would she take half a year off? What could she have filled her time with, if not her preferred hobbies and activities? I can only presume she spent many nights heading over to the homes of men like Dave Portnoy to be choked and slapped. No wonder she took a booking against me…..she wants her first Saturday night back in the biz’ to go just like all her other Saturday nights."

Charlie steps onto a wooden porch covered in holes, nails, and decaying cat carcasses. The Nickleman calmly walks forward towards a door with no handle and casually pushes it open. The room inside is mostly dark, spare for some rays of light sneaking in through the windows. The former champion steps into the mangled home as he speaks softly under his breath.

“I’ve been feeling dead inside ever since I lost my precious goldilocks….but you, Osira? Well, let’s just say that touching you might just make me feel alive.”

Charlie shut the door behind him. He was once again alone in the place he had claimed for his own. Charlie’s breath still steamed the air as he walked through the roughshod house, but he didn’t seem to pay much notice. He had a one track mind. He walked straight towards the half-empty 24 pack of Budweiser cans sitting in the corner of the room. Grumbling a bit, he shifted his weight towards the floor and sat with his back against the wall. He placed one hand over the 24 pack while reaching into the open case with his other hand. The Nickleman stared down at the booze like it was a long lost friend.

“If that glorified street walker doesn’t make me feel alive, you might just do the trick, bud!”

The champion cracked open a cold one and chugged it down. He belched loudly, smashed the can against his head, then threw the empty can against the far wall. He repeated the process two more times before he grabbed a few cans at once and stood up. Charlie took a step forward before slowing down and steadying himself. Charlie exhaled softly a few times as he walked once again towards the pile of clothes on top of a bare mattress. Charlie laid on top of the clothes pile and stretched his limbs out. He smiled softly as he rested his aching back on the clothes a great wrestler used to wear.

“This is the life…”

The former champion drifts off into a booze nap as the sun rolls through the sky. He dreams of honor, glory, and his oh so precious goldilocks. The man who once was a great champion only arises from his slumber when the rays of the setting sun peak through the drapes and shine down on his baggy eyes.

“Oh my god how long has it been…”

Charlie squints at the position of the sun before quickly jumping out of the bed.

“Oh shit, I hope I haven’t missed the match!”

Charlie grabs two beer cans off of the bed before darting through the house. He slips and slides around the hardwood floors in his socks, but he is always able to keep his balance. Eventually Charlie runs into a small study where an old laptop sits on top of a plastic folding table. Charlie pulls over a nearby bean bag. He pays no attention to the various stains as he sits right on top of the bean bag. He reaches for a DVD case that's set on the table and opens it hastily. As the case opens the camera zooms in on the disc inside.

‘The Longest Television Title Reign In Human History Featuring Charlie Nickles & Demos’

The green DVD has blue lettering and an official XWF logo, so you know it’s legit. Charlie Nickles pops the DVD into the old laptop and waits eagerly for his favorite cinema to start up.

‘It all started in November of 2020…’ a male narrator states in a relatively flat tone.

“Oh, this is my favorite part!” Charlie shouts excitedly to nobody in particular.

The former champion places his beers on the table as his eyes become glued to the laptop screen. He gulps down sips of Budweiser while trying to watch every second of the action. In the course of his distracted guzzling he can’t help but spill a few mouthfuls of beer into his beard, but the former champion doesn’t have time to care. He’s too busy rewatching his greatest hits!

‘Your winner and NEW television champion- Charlie “The Family Man” Nickles!”

“Fuck yeah!”

Charlie Nickles pumps his fist excitedly into the air.

“Kicking Thunder Nutthole’s ass is what I do best! Who else but Charlie Nickles could hang 3 Ls on TeeKay and not break a sweat? I’d like to see Ciela Santos Guerros Ted Cruz Luiz do that! That dumb bitch struggles to win an opening match, she’d be toast in the main event! And Reggie Estrada would eh-NADA! He’d have to bribe TeeKay a lot more than he ever could to pick up a win like I did!”

Charlie Nickles nods confidently in his own greatness as he watches himself parade around the ring with his newly won championship belt.

‘Charlie Nickles would go on to have the longest reign of any Television champion in the modern era…..’

“Ha! I’d like to see Cage Coleman do that! That dude will be in-and-out of the XWF before he even hits 90 days- I’d bet my life savings on it!”

Charlie looked around the abandoned home he had taken over for his own dwelling.

“Well, if I had any….”

‘During this reign the champion would go on to successfully defend against all-time XWF greats like Barney Green and Azrael Erebus…’

“How the fuck are they all time greats? People had better be calling me an all-time great if those schmucks are making the list…”

‘Jenny Myst also failed to end the reign…’

“Mmmm…..Jenny Myst. She might as well be a more talented, more voluptuous Osira. I think if I squint closely I can see the resemblance….yeah, I want to run that match again!”

Charlie fast forwards the DVD to Myst vs Demos. He leans back in the bean bag as the successful title defense plays across the screen. Charlie unzips his pants and reaches for a conveniently located bottle of Jergens lotion. The camera feed cuts off before macaroni sounds and moans can be heard on the audio. Charlie sings softly before his voice fades out into the nothingness.


“Touching You Makes Me Feel Alive!”

[Image: 27J5l3J.png]
Edit Hate Post Like Post
[-] The following 3 users Like Charlie Nickles's post:
Marf (11-08-2021), MrBig (11-06-2021), Peter Vaughn (11-06-2021)




Users browsing this thread: 1 Guest(s)