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X-treme Wrestling Federation »   » Archives » "CCPE Cannabis Cup 2022" RP Board
Bitchin' Bout Bitches
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
06-14-2022, 10:27 PM





A lunatic sits all alone in a dingy room.


He holds her framed photo above the flames of the candle.


For over half a year he has been thinking of her.

dreaming of her.

fantasizing of her.

For over half a year he has been lusting for her.

killing for her.

dying for her.


He knows he will never be with her again.

love with her again.
slaughter with her again.



He is, after all this time with her, completely alone.


Or is he?

Knock



Knock



Knock


A madman is pounding at the door.



What does he want now?



Another favor?



Does he need to borrow a staple?


Whatever the madman wants, he may have to get it somewhere else…in this dingy room, a lunatic is still mourning, is still spending precious time with the greatest love of his life
.


He remembers holding her in his arms, like it was just yesterday….

Knock



Knock



Knock


Marf, let me the fuck in! It’s cold up here in Canada, you live in the worst country in the world! Even my fucking nuts are frozen together!

What the fuck…? Charlie!?

Marf marches over to the door and nearly rips it off the hinges to reveal a poorly dressed for the weather Charlie. The madman has snow all over him and in his hair even though it isn’t even snowing. The lunatic cocks his head and then steps aside so Charlie can enter the much warmer room.

Why are you covered in snow? The hell are you even doing here!?

Do you realize how many god damn forests I walked through to find your damn place up here? Fuckin’ Canadian, I thought y’all are supposed to be nice? Offer me a beer or something what the fuck!

I don’t really drink…

Charlie cuts Marf off.

Forget about that religious bullshit Lycana put you on! Tonight you’re gonna drink because I’m taking you out on the town, or, I guess, province!

What are you talking about? Why am I wasting my breath, you wouldn’t know anything about real relationships…

The hell I don’t!

Charlie starts going through Marf’s cabinets in the kitchen, tossing random silverware and dish rags onto the tile flooring.

Now where did she put them…

Hey, what the hell?! You just come into my house and start making a mess?!

Damn it! Where are they?!

After all of the kitchen cabinets and drawers have been opened, Charlie heads over to the freezer and begins throwing frozen bratwursts and california style veggie mixes over his shoulder.

Stop going through my shit! Just tell me what you’re looking for and I’ll tell you if I have it!

Charlie turns back to look directly at Marf. He narrows his eyes and speaks to him in a dire tone.

When Lycana cut your balls off, where did she put them?

Marf balled his fists as Charlie continued to stare. The question lingered in the air while Marf slowly approached the freezer. As Charlie went to follow up, Marf raised his right fist against The Nickleman with a skull-thumping overhand. Charlie fell against the fridge before collapsing to the floor. Marf stood over him, staring down with the intensity of a thousand suns burning inside his eyes.

I fuckin’ dare you to say that again…

Charlie wiped some blood from his mouth as he chuckled softly. He looked up towards Marf with a sicko’s grin.

I think we just found them.

Charlie removes his hand from his mouth and extends it out towards Marf. Charlie tilts his head expectantly, causing Marf to sigh before grasping The Nickleman’s hand. Marf pulls Charlie up off the floor before Charlie points to the photo of Lycana laying next to a candle.

Fuck’s that?

Don’t worry about it!

Too late.

Charlie walks over to the candlelit photograph of a scantily-clad wolf woman. Nickles picks the photo up and turns it over, noticing an inscription on the back. Marf snatches it out of Charlie’s hands before he can read it.

Hey..what’s that say!?

It says mind your own goddamn business.

Marf tucks the photograph into his pocket while Charlie raises a skeptical eyebrow.

I don’t think it says that. You know what you should do, Marf? You should burn that fucking photograph! You don’t need it. You never needed her!

Marf blows the candle out before looking up at Charlie with feigned curiosity.

What photo? I don’t see any photos.

Hmmph. Right. Maybe you’ll show me yours if I show you mine...

Charlie reaches into his pants as Marf is shocked into silence. The madman pulls out a crumpled polaroid before he grabs the lunatic by the collar and waves the photo in his face. It appears to be a picture of the Television title wearing a bright pink thong. Marf looks at Charlie, completely bewildered.

The fuck is that!? I’m mourning the love of my life and you’re mourning a fucking belt?! It’s not at all the same!

It’s exactly the same, Goldi loved me just as much as Lycana loved you!

Marf scoffs in disgust.

You wanna talk about burning photos…you damn hypocrite! Don’t tell me there’s shit written on the back!

Don’t worry about that, now listen! We’re going to work through this trauma, together, with kilos of cocaine and hundreds of pounds of hooker ass! Now leave all that garbage alone and let’s hit the road!

And why the fuck would we do this?

C’mon mannnn, you can’t hide your pain from ole Charlie! I know how you’re hurting, because I am too, brother! You miss your lost love just as badly as I miss mine…

Connie?

What? God no! I’m talking about HER!

Charlie waves around his photograph of the belt in a thong before suddenly dropping to his knees in the middle of Marf’s messy kitchen. The Nickleman throws his hands towards the heavens as he screams in anguish. The dramatics cause Marf to facepalm.

GOOOOOLLLDIIIIII WWHHHHHYYYYYYYYYY DID YOU HAVE TO LEAAAVVVEEE?????

You are way off your rocker tonight, has someone been tiptoeing into the Valiums?

Charlie snaps back up to his feet before rushing towards Marf with an accusatory finger pointed in his face.

Do not try to hide it from me Marfy! I know! I know that blue whore did a number on your super angsty heart, just like that golden cunt did to mine! Those bitches tarnished our souls, tainted our psyches! They made us dedicate our LIVES to THEM- and now they’re gone, like sluts in the wind! But our LIVES must go on….without THEM!

Marf slaps the finger out of his face. Charlie falls away as his finger is slapped, collapsing onto the countertop with his head buried in his hands as he screams at his sensual photograph.

We’re Bastards in pain! We’re Bastards without purpose!

Charlie wipes a perplexingly bloody tear away from the corner of his eye before tucking the photo back into his pocket. He slowly rises so he can stare directly into Marf’s eyes.

And in that pain we have no choice but to unite, to seek purpose, by taking over everything. Savage, Warfare, the tag titles, all the goddamn titles you name it and we claim it!

Fucking aye….I hate it when you make sense.

Marf reluctantly gestures for Charlie to follow. The tag-team partners walk through a narrow hallway filled with various paintings of wolves frolicking in their natural state. At the end of the hallway there is a wooden door with only a few specks of paint on it and a ton of scratch marks. It looks like the door was once painted blue, but someone angrily clawed away the paint. Marf looks over his shoulder and sees Charlie grinning wolfishly at the photos on the wall.

Don’t say a fucking word.

Charlie raises his hands in innocence before Marf turns around to open the scratched up door.

Simp….

Swaysons spits his retort as he steps into his garage and flicks the lights on.

Oh yeah, and you wouldn’t know anything about simping, huh? At least I got my fucking dick wet.

As they walk through Marf’s garage they pass a few cluttered tables and a slew of old garbage bags. Marf gestures towards the crimson Hyundai Elantra parked against the far wall.

So are we going to hang around all day bitchin' bout bitches, or did you want to get going?

SHOTGUN!

I don’t know if we need to do all that…

Charlie runs over to the mounted 12 gauge on the wall. He picks it up and cocks it before he pointing it at his own face to inspect the barrel.

Do you ever clean this thing?

Marf snatches the gun out of Charlie’s hands. He uncocks it, forcing the loaded shell to fall to the ground. Marf looks over at Charlie and shakes his head in admonishment before remounting the shotgun.

Stop touching my shit.

I thought we could have some fun shooting in the car!

Marf just looks at Charlie in disbelief before turning around and walking to the car. Marf looks back and sees that Charlie is reaching for the gun again.

DUDE! Come on!

Marf opens the backseat of the car up and Charlie hops in. Marf slides in right next to Charlie. Charlie looks a bit confused as the engine revs to life and the garage door begins to open.

Who’s driving?

Marf looks at the driver’s seat, then back to Charlie. Marf rolls his eyes as he puts his seatbelt on.

Just buckle up, because Damien ain’t exactly the best driver.

Wha-..who?

Charlie looks around in confusion as the car pulls out of the driveway and turns onto a sidestreet.

So where we going? What’s the address?

Charlie looks to Marf, then back to the empty driver’s seat.

Uh, it was 666 Boston Post Road…but who-

BOSTON POST?! Why the hell are we going all the way out to Sudbury? That place is the fucking armpit of Canada!

Dude, just trust me! We’re tag team partners again! And tag-team wrestling is all about equal partners standing beside each other, with full trust in each other, weathering the waves of war together.

Fine, you’re right. Damien, plug in the address and take us there!

The madman squints his eyes as the lunatic reaches forward and seems to pat someone on the shoulder. Charlie goes to interrogate this phenomena, but before he gets the chance Marf turns back around with a real thinker of a question.

Wait, so how the fuck are Mark Flynn and his puppet even a tag team? Mark Flynn’s the brains, the brawn, and the mouthpiece of their team: so what role does his partner even serve?

I don’t fucking know, Marf. I swear to God Flynn just busted a nut inside a sock puppet and everyone let him run around and pretend to be a fucking tag team!

Is Mark ever going to tag the fuck out and let his partner take the lead? Nahhh, he’s probably too much of a mark for himself to let someone else get the glory! It’s a wonder that he hasn’t found a way to just clone himself so he could tag with only himself. The Marks. Biggest two marks for one another, it’s just perfect! For now he settles for his Korean fuck buddy.

Marf, I fucking know we’re going to win this match. The deal is already goddamned sealed. We’re a more cohesive tag team than they are, because we actually have a tag name, and we even have a longer history as a team! Shit man, how many fucking tag matches did we win in the FCW? Like, two million?

True…But didn’t our FCW tag team end with a blood feud that lasted for years and carried into the XWF’s heavymetalweight division?

The Hyundai Elantra hits a few bumps in the road as it pulls onto the freeway and starts reaching top speeds. Charlie finally decides to put his own seatbelt on as his body jostles around the backseat.

Shit, that doesn’t matter! Of course we’re bastards, and bastards do what bastards do…but Marf, we’re brothers now! That’s a bond that runs deeper than a couple years of bad blood, staple guns, and unprotected chair shots. But Mark Flynn and his puppet? They’re not brothers, they’re barely even sorority sisters! Mark Flynn would sell out his tag team partner in a second just to take my place at the top of the card, and that’s a fucking fact. For months now Flynn has been trying to use his partner like a pawn on the way to a uni shot…you know, that thing I’m getting handed on a silver-platter every fucking time there’s a card that needs a draw.

You have a point. Mark Flynn wants to escape the tag division, but we want to redefine it! We want to bring this division back to its former greatness and glory, and we’re going to do that by defending those belts the way true tag-team champions should. Week in and week out baby. No more non-title bullshit or hiding from pay per view to pay per view. We’ll take the fuckin’ tag belts on tour with us, Savage, Warfare even god damn Anarchy. Fuck it, we’ll even take them to IIW and flex on their whole tag division! Marf and Charlie, laying every motherfucker to rest that dares step up to us. It is long overdue that tag team wrestling became exciting again. Unlike what it is now, where the current champs put the crowd to sleep. And their opponents too for that matter with all the fuckin’ waiting they put folks through for a damn title shot.

I single-handedly turned the TV division into the greatest show in wrestling, just imagine what we can do once we have those tag belts. The Carnie Bastards will rebuild this division, with Steubenville Screwdrivers and Sways aplenty!

You’re damn right! We’ll be the kind of tag-team champions those clowns wish they could be! Christ I’m downright disgusted people even refer to North Korean War Criminal as a champion. Yeah I’m talking to you ya fuckin’ weird eyed prick. Fuckboy Flynn dragged you out of whatever ladyboy club you lingered at and gave you a tag title. The fuck have you ever done on your own? I have an Xtreme title win on my own. Multiple Television championships. All in less than two years. What the fuck have you accomplished on your own? I truly mean by yourself by the way, not while being Flynn’s second favorite hole to jizz into…no first place there sorry, that belongs to Thad. That’s just the kinda man Flynn is.

And Charlie Nickles is just the kinda man Mark Flynn wants to be! I set my sights on what I want and I create tragedy after bloody tragedy until I get it. But Flynn? Shit, he’s been trying to scheme his way to a uni shot his entire career, and what’s he got to show for it? He beat Charlie Nickles, good for him, and then Charlie Nickles went on to headline Leap of Faith. Now Mark Flynn is a XWF champion and Charlie Nickles isn't, good for him, but lemme ask ya something….who’s headlining night 3 of the Cannabis Cup, and who’s opening the show for him? Who’s set to challenge for the universal championship…again...and who’s set to suck Chris Page off in between rounds?

Flynn and his jizz puppet beat me, so I became the superstar of the month and got back-to-back uni shots. Fuck, if they beat me again they might just give us the tag-team belts anyways, because even when I lose to them I still get over more than they fucking do! God damn it, I’m even headlining the super show FLYNN’S BOSS is paying for! EVEN MARK FLYNN’S MANAGER GIVES ME HIGHER BILLING! With no belt, no wins over Flynn, no nothing...his own representative still makes me the headliner, and you bet your ass he paid me accordingly!


Do you think Mark Flynn pays his agent for their services? Is it his money in your pockets right now? Ha! That’s fitting, because their belts will be around our waists after Warfare! Y’all are more than welcome to attempt getting them back but Charlie and I will die with those belts around our waists before you limp dicks ever touch them again. But let’s be honest, once those belts are off of you two, Flynn will flee back to singles to try and prove himself once more now that Thad is on hiatus. As for the fake ass criminal, well at least he can finally focus on a meaningful run with the 24/7 title, if he can even manage that on his own. You actually have to be willing to put your body on the line though.

Are either of these two assholes willing to do that? They can say it but can they really do it. Who am I kidding, we all fuckin’ know war criminal won’t, that wet piece of pussy shit. But can Mark Flynn say it and mean it? You may hold the tag titles but you don’t act like champions. You don’t defend like champions. You try to act like you’re better than other people just because of a lame tag title run that includes what, a couple defenses in twice as many months? Who the fuck cares, at best you are transitional champions, keeping the belts warm for the real champs. The Carnie Bastards themselves, Charlie and Marf. The transition is almost over, we are coming to take those titles and there isn’t a damn thing you phony champions can fuckin’ do about it to stop us.


The car screeches to an abrupt halt, causing both Marf and Charlie to slam their heads into the front seats.

WHAT THE FUCK?!

Charlie starts rubbing a new bump on his head as Marf turns to look out the window.

Damien says we’re here…


[Image: 27J5l3J.png]
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[-] The following 4 users Like Charlie Nickles's post:
Jenny Myst (06-15-2022), Marf (06-15-2022), Mark Flynn (06-15-2022), Theo Pryce (06-22-2022)




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