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Current XWF board time: 01-26-2022, 10:20 AM (time should display as Pacific time zone; please contact Admin if it appears to be wrong)                                                                
X-treme Wrestling Federation BOARDS » Savage Boards » "Savage Saturday Night" RP Board
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Soft Deadline Charlie’s Christmas Angel
Author Message
Charlie Nickles Offline
The Nickleman
TITLE - The TV Champion



XWF FanBase:
Hardcore, psycho fans

(cheered for breaking rules and bones; excessively violent; creative with weapons)


Post: #1
01-07-2022 11:56 PM

Continued From A VERY SAVAGE XMAS


Replay:The elevator doors open up and Charlie exits out. He wanders out into what would be the lobby and takes an immediate left into a large dining room. The room is completely open with tables and chairs set up in rows and a bar on the far side. He sees a man standing behind the bar dressed in an all black suit, wiping down a glass with a clean towel. He approaches the bar and takes a seat on one of the stools.

Charlie: “Hey there, good fellow… Busy night?? You know this place was supposed to be cleared out, right? The last time I was here I kinda brought the house down, if you know what I mean…”

The man smiles and sets down the glass.

“Oh we remember you alright, Mr. Nickles...”

Charlie looks around as if to say… “We who?” And smirks to the bartender.

"How could we forget the Great Nickleman?? Tell me, how are you doing tonight?"

Charlie remained seated at the bar talking with the bartender….







Charlie: Oh I’m doing fine Mr. Barkeep, I just gotta get past little Miss Martinez. This fucker just won’t stay down.

Charlie takes a shot of the mysterious liquid before sliding the glass back over to the bartender.

“Oh don’t worry Mr. Nickles, you’ll get another. We all know it.”

The barkeep says as he grabs the now empty glass.

Charlie: Ah no thanks- I’m good. Last time I wrestled Elijah I got too intoxicated and I ain’t exactly trying to repeat those same mistakes.

“Oh, Mr. Nickles, I’m not talking about imbibes. I’m talking about challengers.”

Charlie nodded with a grunt. The barkeep placed the empty glass in a sink.

“Well anyway Mr. Nickles, I suppose I should let you get back to entertaining all of our guests. But- it has certainly been great to catch up with you again after all these decades.”

Charlie: I think Elijah and Doc can entertain themselves just fine without me.

“But Mr. Krisciev traveled all this way just to see you, Mr. Nickles. He’s out in the maze garden, you should go see him if you have time.

Charlie: Mr. who? Anyways barkeep, I’m a bit busy tonight in case you hadn’t noticed. Don’t exactly have time t-



Replay:….until he hears a crash from the next room over in what would be the kitchen. He almost ignores it, then recalls it was most likely one of two things. Either his opponent who he needs to get to the roof and stuff down a chimney… or Doc, who is for one reason or another, stalking Charlie throughout the hotel with an ax.


After Yet Another Successful Title Defense…



[Image: images?q=tbn:ANd9GcQac4zSWMehUOVkauX0oE6...p;usqp=CAU]


Charlie: How the hell do we get back home, Goldi?

Charlie wanders aimlessly between rows of snow-flocked hedges with the championship belt in his hands. A slight shiver seems to overtake Charlie’s muscles every couple of seconds. Frosty breath emanates off of both Charlie Nickles and his precious Goldi as the two trudge through the deep snow.

The Nickleman had wandered far off the beaten path by now. He was merely trying to get back home with Goldilocks after his match, but the exterior grounds of the hotel were exhaustive and without any signage. Charlie shook his head in frustration as he turned yet another snowy corner with Goldi in his grips.

Charlie: I hope you’re not getting too cold, baby, we’ll find our way back home soon. This little hedge maze can’t go on forever, there has to be an exit- and that exit I just know we’ll find that red hummer limo! I just know it, Goldi! The XWF wouldn’t just abandon us here to our own devices for the purposes of a violent wrestling match with no supervision and no way to escape!

?: “Wouldn’t they?”

Charlie: Who said that?!

Charlie turned around in the snowy darkness. He squinted through the flurry of flakes and saw a mysterious figure standing off in the distance.

?: “Your guardian angel.”

Charlie: Who the hell are you?

Charlie stood his ground but brought Goldilocks much closer to his chest as he stared down the dark figure. As Charlie focused his gaze he was able to perceive that the man was dressed in an all black suit without a hint of snow on him.

Charlie: I don’t know what you think you came here for, but the only thing I’m fixing to give you is a god damned knuckle sandwich if you don’t back the fuck off!

The distant figure chuckles as he starts to step forward through the snowy mounds.

Charlie: I’m warning you! I already sent one bitch to the hospital tonight, the next rat that fucks with me is going to the morgue!

?: How ironic….that’s exactly where I was hoping to take you, my good friend. It seems great minds think alike.

Charlie continues to stand his ground as the wind suddenly picks up with gusto. Snowflakes dance under the moonlight as the mysterious figure approaches Charlie. As the man in the black suit gets closer it’s apparent to Charlie that he’s severely outsized: this stranger is at least half a foot taller than him, and seems to have considerably more muscle.

Charlie holds his hand back in the shape of a fist as the man approaches……wait….

IT’S MORBID ANGEL!

Charlie relaxes his fist and wipes a disgusting combination of sweat and snow off of his face.

Charlie: Jesus, dude- you had me freaked out! I thought you might be that crazy Mr. Krushcev guy the bartender was talking to me about! Between him, Doc, and Elijah I’ve got enough enemies in this hotel to last me a lifetime! Apparently they were all after ME, specifically!

Morbid: Don’t take the good Lord’s name in vain- and don’t pay any mind to Lloyd’s ramblings. He’s forgotten more in his undeath than he ever learned in life, that one.

Charlie: Un….death?

Morbid: Yes, undeath.

Charlie: What the- what the hell is that?

Morbid Angel raised an intrigued eyebrow in Charlie’s direction.

Morbid: Undeath: the state a being enters when they are no longer alive but are instead animated by a supernatural force. For Lloyd, that supernatural force is this hotel. But I’m surprised you don’t know more about undeath, Charlie, given the state of your precious Goldi.

Charlie looks down at Goldi, then back up at Morbid Angel.

Charlie: Don’t you start insulting Goldi now, too! She’s a real girl! This isn’t some sort of fucking Pinnochio situation!

Morbid: Charlie….

Morbid reaches out and grabs Charlie’s wrist. Charlie tries to jerk it away, but Morbid’s grasp is firm. Morbid places Charlie’s hand against the golden center plate of the TV championship.

Morbid: You don’t feel a heartbeat, do you?

Charlie keeps his hand on the championship belt’s center plate.

Charlie: Come on baby, you can do it….come on baby….

Morbid: There’s no heartbeat.

Charlie: But she’s breathing, I can see her breath in the cold air!

Morbid: Exactly, you can see it.

Morbid and Charlie stare at each other as three mouthfuls of breath fill the space between them. Charlie looks at Morbid with grave concern. Morbid looks at Charlie with confidence in his own wisdom.

Morbid: Goldi is breathing when in your hands, but Goldi’s heart doesn’t beat and they can’t move without you moving them. Goldi is being animated solely by your love, Charlie.

Charlie: Wh-what does that mean?!

Morbid: It means if you lose this belt, Charlie, they will die once more. They will return to the lifeless ways of the past.

Charlie: B-but you said Goldi is already dead because her heart is not beating!

Morbid: Goldi is undead. I really thought you of all people would understand the endless boundary between life and death, Charlie.

Charlie: I just want my baby to be okay!

Morbid: I know that, Charlie. We all know that. That’s why I’m here. I usually don’t help with relationships of…..THIS sinful nature.

The Angel dressed in all black gestures vaguely towards Charlie and his championship belt.

Morbid: But…..an exception can be made in this case.

Charlie eyes Morbid Angel with immense skepticism.

Charlie: What kind of help are we talking?

Morbid Angel reaches into his black suit jacket. He pulls out an ancient looking tome.


[Image: tumblr_nbixnscgii1rawb5do1_500.jpg]



Charlie: What in the hell is that?

Morbid Angel: The book of undeath.

A supernatural shiver runs down Charlie’s spine as the face on the book seems to smile at the mention of it’s name. Charlie instinctively takes a few steps back as he clutches Goldi to his chest.

Charlie: I’m not sure about this…

Morbid Angel: But I am. Don’t you remember what I told you backstage during The Marf Show?

Charlie paused as he tried to recollect his last meeting with Morbid Angel.

Charlie: That divinity has a plan in providence for all of us? But what’s that even mean?!

Morbid Angel: God is an all-loving Father and I am his hand on earth. You can trust me, Charlie.

Charlie: I don’t know that I can, Morbs.

Morbid Angel, book in hand, takes a quick step towards the loving couple.

Morbid Angel: But Charlie, who else is offering to bring Goldilocks back to life? Who else can turn water into wine, gold into flesh other than our Lord and savior?

Charlie: to…..flesh?

Morbid Angel bobs his head up and down as a deviant’s grin spreads across his aged face. Charlie Nickles looks up at Morbid with hesitation, then down at the book with concern.

Charlie: This thing looks…..

Morbid: Evil?

Charlie: Uncontrollable.

Morbid: God is all good and all powerful, Charlie, and I am his hand on Earth.

Charlie gulps audibly before looking back up towards Morbid Angel.

Morbid: Doesn’t Goldi deserve this? Don’t you want them to be in living flesh instead of cold metal?

Charlie holds his precious gold out in front of his chest. He looks down at Goldi while biting his lip.

Charlie: What do we have to do?

Morbid smiles as he pulls a small black key out of his pocket. He places the key into the lock on the book before turning it. A clicking sound is heard before Morbid removes the key and places it back into his pants pocket. Charlie leans his face into his championship belt as he softly caresses it’s leather strap.

Charlie: It’s going to be okay, Goldi, we’re going to do this for you. Remember, my dear: I’d do anything for you.

Morbid Angel goes to open the book, but first, he looks back at Charlie and Goldi before speaking with a slightly judgemental tone.

Morbid: I never took you for a member of the alphabet mafia, Charlie. No matter, I’ll perform the ritual for you all the same. I guess those new age protestants have made me a bit soft in my old age.

Charlie: I don’t roll with any gangs no more, okay? Ever since I got into it with those four crips in the Hamilton county jail I swore the gang life off. I don’t need another five years added to every prison sentence I get.

Morbid: I’m talking about your sexual degeneracy.

Charlie looks at Morbid with a confused expression.

Morbid: So who’s the man in your relationship with Goldi?

Charlie: What? Me, obviously me! I’m the only man!

Morbid grunts in clear disagreement.

Morbid: You can slap a dress on a ballsack and call it Madonna, but it’s still going to be a man’s ballsack, Charlie.

Charlie: What are you talking about? Goldi doesn’t have a ballsack!

Morbid: Maybe not now, but he will when I bring him back to flesh.

Charlie: Goldi’s a woman!

Morbid looks down at the belt, then back up at Charlie.

Charlie: She’s a real woman, god damn it! We’re bringing her back to life as a woman!

Morbid: I can put Goldi in a real woman’s body, if you insist…but that won’t change his God-given gender.

Charlie: HER!

Morbid scoffs dismissively as he rolls his eyes. Our dark angel turns his focus back to the ancient looking tome before softly speaking a few words in the holy tongue.

Morbid: Sicut aqua versatur in vinum, ita et aurum in carnem. Fiat voluntas tua!

The book glows dark red as Morbid Angel opens it to a seemingly random page. Blood begins to drip down onto the white snow from the tome’s all seeing eyes. Charlie looks on in shocked horror as flames begin to dance upon the pages of the open book. Within seconds the flames take the form of a luscious woman.


[Image: 7ff42e5c-ca82-492f-8e7b-0f4cc9b32651_1024.jpg]


Charlie: The woman in the flames….I remember her...

Morbid Angel abruptly closes the book. All returns to normal in the middle of the snowy hedges. The blood on the snow disappears without a trace.

Charlie: Was….was that all? She’s….she’s still a belt.

Morbid: The spell has been prepared. Now we just need a proper conduit to host the essence of your title belt.

Charlie: Where are we going to find one of those?!

Morbid: I thought this part should have been obvious, Charlie. We’re going to steal a body out of the morgue!

Charlie stares dumbfoundedly at Morbid Angel. The camera slowly zooms out of the snowy maze until the two men are nothing but tiny dots in the hedges.







The camera cuts to a shot of Charlie Nickles standing tall with the television championship belt around his waist. The stars shine through the darkness that surrounds our loving antagonists as they walk in between a scattering of trees. The wooden torch in Charlie’s right hand illuminates the space immediately around his body, but not much else. Charlie sings a tune to himself to help kill the time.

“Do you hear what I hear, creeping through those ranks
Do you smell what I smell, seeping through those tanks
Do you taste what I taste, I think it’s Ruby Red
Do you see what I see, I think they are all dead.”


Charlie stops in front of one particularly large oak tree. He looks up with a sick smile as he raises the torch into the air. The camera follows the torch up and is soon centered on a frame of three zipped body bags hanging taught from nooses. Charlie laughs softly to himself before lowering the torch and, by extension, the camera tracking it.

“Oh Ruby-O, where have you been? Those poor souls sure could have used a hero. It’s a shame I wasn’t here to stop them from being strung up like old gee-tar strings.

I heard their cries, I would’ve liked to help them.

It’s a shame I was too busy playing the music.”


A sardonic laugh crackles through your speakers.

“Oh Ruby, Ruby, Ruby-O…..why don’t you help these poor unfortunate souls I’ve been tormenting every Saturday night? Seriously girl: you want to play dress up like some big hero, but when the people have needed you, where have you been? You certainly weren’t here- but you haven’t been on the big screen all that much either. Maybe you were out patrolling the streets, but in reality, I think we all know you’ve just been patrolling Centurion’s sheets. I bet those silk sheets are all sorts of Ruby red by now.

While I was making a mockery of assault victims and winning championship belts at Bad Medicine, Ruby was at home. I guess she was just waiting for Centurion to come back after the show. There was no sign of Centy’s sidekick on Anarchy’s Xmas Showcase, either. How peculiar. Maybe Ruby realized there is only room for one green bitch in a mask on Anarchy and decided to hightail it before she loses to lil’ LSM again.

Well I guess Ruby did make an appearance on my TV screen last night, so at least we know she’s still alive. But she appeared in a losing effort to Arcana, so she may very well have gone home and killed herself to spare the public humiliation she’s going to get for THAT particular accomplishment.

But if she’s not dead yet, I get the sneaking suspicion the fatcats upstairs are wanting me to get the job done. I mean hell, they’re barely booking this weebish bitch on Anarchy these days- and now all of a sudden she’s being forced to fight The Nickleman fresh off a big upset?

IN A MATCH STIPULATION OF MY CHOOSING?!

Oh the fatcats upstairs don’t like to tempt fate very often, let alone tempt The Nickleman! They know exactly what they’re doing. This type of conspiracy is starting to feel felonious, but far be it from me to turn down a good time.

Well well well……Mr. Lane, Mr. Big…..your wish is my command.

I know the stipulation.

The only question is: can sweet and innocent Ruby handle it?”


Charlie raises his torch back up and the camera follows suit. We are once again exposed to the three zipped body bags swinging from the tall oak tree. The torch lingers between the bodies….then it starts to set each one aflame.

We hear the crackling of the fire. We hear the cackling of The Nickleman.

Then we hear the screams.

From inside the bags….or from off in the distance?

Charlie throws the torch down onto the grass. The camera follows to the ground. Charlie is standing above the camera with the championship belt around his waist and a cruel smile spreading on his lips. The Nickleman is illuminated by the flames as he leans forward.

“Hangman’s match, Rubes. Win by hanging your opponent from an executioner’s platform- and they gotta swing for at least three seconds….but preferably longer. Do you even have the guts to lynch a man, Ruby-O? I guess we’re going to find out….or maybe you won’t even get the chance. Lord knows those burning pricks never had the chance.

Heh.”


Charlie turns abruptly and begins walking away from the scene.

A woman dances once more in the flames.

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