Another fuckin' W!

Your gameplan just keeps working, Chuck! We might win out the rest of the season!

Of course we will, because I'm the most offensive mind in all of sports entertainment! I can get past, over and around any fucking defense: all it takes is a little bit of elbow grease and a whole lot of cheating! 

We open with a shot of Charlie Nickles and Marf sitting at a small table in the middle of a cramped sporting office. Helmets, team banners, playbooks, and shoulder pads are strewn all around the room with no rhythm or order at all. Nickles and Marf are dressed in matching outfits, with both coordinators wearing tattered jeans and official NY Pride polos with matching visors. That's right, Thaddeus Duke hired Marf and Charlie to coordinate for his lesbian football team: and now, the two coordinators are celebrating their torrid hot 5-1 start to the season!

Cheers to that! 

The men clank together two beer bottles before chugging em' down. Charlie finishes first, belching loudly before he wipes his lips. The Nickleman cocks a sporty grin before looking back across the table at the defensive coordinator.

I can't believe Lauren hasn't fucked this up yet….thank God I run a Smash mouth offense, because that dumb trick might legitimately be the worst Quarterback in the league!

And I can't believe our defense hasn't been fined for attaching tiny razorblades to our helmets and gloves, but fuck it, I'm not complaining!

The two Carnies turned coordinators share a moment of laughter before Charlie leans forward on the table, cutting off his own chuckle.

Man, can you believe that Thaddeus Duke is paying me to stare at his wife all day and boss her around? I rub my crotch on her face mask every day before she arrives for practice, and her husband pays me to do it. Can you believe that?!

Of course I can believe it, Chuck! He knows you have the most offensive mind in the business, so he needs you to call his shots and make big plays happen! Thad's not man enough to do it himself, so he pays you to do it! It's just like the time he paid you to rescue that kidnapped twerp for him!

It is pretty similar, ain't it? Duke's got a big name and an even bigger ego, but he still ain't a big enough man to lead a locker room- not even in the LFL! Just like he couldn't take charge in OCW, because he's a limp wristed owner who bends out of shape at the slightest affront. He was such a bitch in the OCW locker room that a god damned jobber kidnapped his SON! AND THAD COULDN'T GET FRANKIE BACK FOR WEEKS! WEEKS!

And what do people do with the kids they kidnap? For Frankie's sake, don't think about the answer to that question. Just know that Thad let him suffer, for WEEKS, because Thaddeus was too weak to save him.

So he made a call to The Nickleman, and he told me to design our next play: just like I'm doing for him now in the LFL!

Anytime Thaddeus needs a real man to handle his business, he calls my number. And that's not a boast: that's a fucking complaint!

I bet if you kidnapped his brat he'd stop calling you!

The Nickleman throws his head back with callous laughter.

Fuck,what would he do if I kidnapped Frankie? He wouldn't have a Nickleman to come in and save his ass this time!

Marf adorned a devilish grin as he made foul eye contact with The Nickleman.

You know…we could do it. His kid comes to every home game…it wouldn't even be hard…

The Nickleman sat back in his chair, genuinely pondering the proposal. Kidnapping a child wouldn't be the worst thing he's done, and it would certainly prove a point to Thad….but the wrenching knot in Charlie's stomach was making him think otherwise. Was that really the kind of man he wanted to be?

As Charlie leaned forward he rested his elbows on the table, taking another gander at Marf Swaysons. What kind of people was he surrounding himself with? Charlie reflected on the kind of influences circling around him, about whether they were the angels on his shoulder or the vultures waiting for his scraps. He wasn't sure he liked the answer.

I would, but….I don't think so. I'm trying to be better.…but just know, I could. Thad couldn't stop me. The only thing that can stop me IS me…just like Blondie said…

Marf can only shrug as he reaches down into a cooler for another ice cold beer The Nickleman, meanwhile, reaches into his pocket and pulls out his winnings from last weekend's Warfare.

But I bet Blondie never knew he had THIS in his back pocket! Those cucks in management loved him so much, they wanted to give him a fast path to the crown…and now, that golden path is all mine!

The most offensive coordinator in the LFL smirks from ear to ear as he pulls a golden ticket out of his tattered jeans.

Fuck's that?

It's my ticket to a better life, Marfy. It's my ticket to the crown! My uncle Gary Stu has been telling me all about it!

Who? What? Where'd you get that?

Charlie waves away Marf's concerns as he tucks the ticket back into his pocket.

I picked it up off the corpse of Blondie's rotting career. He wasn't going to use it, so I figured I should have it!

Marf cocks his head to the side, clearly perplexed.

Eh don't worry about it too much, it doesn't really affect you. Just know that Stu's going to be happier than a pig in shit when he sees that I have this!

Marf shakes his head and, instead of asking questions, he just chugs the rest of his booze.

Welp, I'd better get back to Stu pretty soon. He's waiting outside the gates of the factory, and I'd hate for us to miss the tour!

The Nickleman stands up to leave the table, walking off towards a small door tucked against the far wall. Marf pushes his empty beer bottle into the center of the table as he glances back towards Charlie.

Say, before you go…what was it Thaddeus asked you before he left OCW? I couldn't help but notice all the fucking noise you were making about it…

As Charlie places his hand on the doorknob, he looks back to Marf with obviously offended chagrin.

He asked me to go down for Lauren at the OCW pay per view…..

Marf's jaw dropped in disbelief.

And you fucking did it?!?!

Nickles dropped his head with disdain: for himself, for his choices, and for Thaddeus.

He was the owner, and he told me I'd get a world title shot if I just let Lauren become the OCW Paradigm champion….and then the piece of shit sold his stake in the company!!!!!!!!

Did he think I'd fucking forget?!?! Or did he think an offensive coordinator job was a suitable replacement for what he promised?!???!??

The Nickleman gritted his teeth as he glared back at Marf.

Thad played me like a fucking fiddle, and now, it's time for him to face the music.

I've wanted to become a better person for a long time, but the wretched sons of privilege never let me take that leap. That fucked up monster inside me, the little parasite the world hates so much….I want to kill it, too: but I can't. Not while these wretched Dukes keep feeding it. I couldn't become a better man, because Thaddeus needed a brute and a thug to handle business and keep his family safe.

Thad. Needed. Me. 

The Nickleman shook his head at Marf with disgust in his heart and a taste for vengeance on his tongue. 

He BEGGED for me: to be his muscle in the locker room, to be the creative genius behind his team's playcalls. To save his son, to make his wife a champion.

But the Dukes could never control me….only contain me.

Until now. Until it was time to crown the King.

And without further ado The Nickleman opened the door and walked through it, letting it slam shut behind him. Marf was left speechless in his wake….until he realized where Charlie went.

That was a damn fine speech, Chuck….but accidentally walking into the closest kinda killed the vibe!

Marf chuckled as he walked to the closest door and opened it.

What the….Chuck?

The scene fades to black as Marf reveals an almost empty storage closet, with nothing but an antique radio sitting on the floor……









The sun was shining brightly over our Otherworldly town, with not a single cloud in sight. The constant stream of toxic exhaust coming from the factory was now mysteriously absent. The once bustling factory surrounded by gawdy slums was now silent, save for the hundreds of villagers still surrounding the gates. The excitement was tremendous. Some in the crowd were pushing and shouting, up until the guards let loose the pepper spray.

We cut to a close up shot of a sidestreet next to the gates, and we see Charlie Nickles pulling himself up out of a storm drain. Still decked out in his NY Pride gear, The Nickleman starts looking around the crowd for his Uncle Gary Stu.

There you are!

CHAWLEY! I thought you were gone for good! It's been days since I saw ya! We're going to miss the contest, you've been gone too long! It's about to start, and we won't even get to see all the lucky winners!

But look what I found!

Gary's eyes nearly popped out at the sight of the golden ticket.

Oh my god, CHAWLEY! That's amazing! Where'd you find the last ticket?!?!

I stole it from some blonde bitch in this world's otherworld!

I don't know what any of that means CHAWLEY, but God damn it am I excited! Let's get to the front of the gates so we can get in for the special contest! We're the next KINGS, dammit!!! But we have to hurry, because the big contest is about to start!

The pair push their way to the front of the crowd, elbowing past all the desperate women and children pleading for a better life. Once the pair finally reached the front they flashed their golden ticket to the security, and they were allowed to slip through the gates.

Wow, CHAWLEY, this is incredible!

Gary whispered his excitement to Charlie as they were guided towards a small group of children, each holding a golden ticket of their own, and each accompanied by an adult guardian. The Nickleman sized up the competition before leaning over to Gary and whispering back his findings.

So these are the dickwads we have to beat? This seems too easy…almost like a trap…none of these pussies look fit to be a king. This would be like taking candy from a baby…

The Nickleman grew even more suspicious as he glanced up at the giant factory exhaust pipes, observing their sudden silence. Where had all the smoke gone? Why were the noxious fumes no longer coating this town? What had changed?

The weather shouldn't be so nice….

Just let miracles be miracles, CHAWLEY! You don't always have to jerk off into a gift horse's mouth, you know!!!!

Somewhere in the distance, a church bell rang out over the town. Very slowly, with a loud creaking of rusty hinges, the great iron doors to the factory began to swing open. The crowd became suddenly still, the children stopped jumping and the women stopped screaming. All mouths were agape, and all eyes were fixed upon the doors to the madness factory.

There he is, Chawley! That's him! That's Mr. Vinnie Wonka!

And so it was!

But to Charlie's eyes, something about this guy just felt off.

Why's that guy look like such a fucking ?