Post by The Nickleman on Oct 29, 2023 22:57:38 GMT -5
My bloodshot eyes stayed glued to the exit gates of the Phnom Penh International Airport. I kept rubbing my sweaty palms on my pant legs as I waited impatiently for their plane to land. As I looked around at all the happy families in Cambodia’s largest airport I felt a sudden sense of nausea stirring in my empty stomach. I locked eyes with a man in a blue suit, who was holding hands with his young daughter and son while their mother lagged behind on her phone. The way he looked at and laughed with his children I could tell that he truly loved them, meaning I had no choice but to look away in shame. I knew I would never be the great father that the stranger in the suit was. After all, he and I are both bringing our families to Cambodia: but only his family will get to leave!
“DADDY!”
My train of thought comes to a standstill as I hear a familiar voice calling out to me in the crowd. A voice I haven’t heard in nearly a year.
“Emily!”
My beautiful daughter breaks through the crowd, rushing to see me with her arms extended out-wide. I kneel down to hug her as she runs straight into me. The scent of chocolate and sweets follows closely behind this child, as does her younger brother.
“There’s my boy! Now are you going to come over here and give your old man a hug?”
Josh crosses his arms as he stares daggers into my soul. As I hold Emily close to my chest, I can’t help but to lock eyes with my son. His features appear to have contorted into a look of pure disgust and betrayal, forcing me to ask myself: ‘Does he know the deal that’s been made?’. Within a few seconds I shake the silly notion out of my mind before turning my attention back to my loving daughter.
“So kids…where’s your mother? She came here to see me too, right? I told that bitch I wanted to see all of you out here supporting me through these trials and tribulations!”
I release my grip on Emily as I stand up and survey the nearby crowd for any signs of my ex-wife, Connie. Emily reaches up and grabs a hold of my hand as my gaze drifts out into the crowd.
”Mom’s coming, her and Rodrigo just had to use the bathroom first!"
My head snaps towards Josh. I cock it to the side as I try to digest the beans he just spilled.
”Who the FUCK is Rodrigo?”
"Mom’s new boyfriend! He's really nice, I think you might even like him!"
Literal steam must have been blowing out of my ears, because my son immediately jumped in to try and salvage the situation. Infidelity was never one of Connie’s faults during our marriage, but she seems to have lost all sense of loyalty ever since our divorce was finalized by that bitch-ass female judge who just refused to see my side of things!
”Rodrigo even bought me a brand new ALIAS action-figure! My favorite!”
My hands clench into fists as soon as my son pulls out his second-rate wrestling toy. I lock eyes with the ALIAS action figure, and I swear to fucking God that doll was smirking at me- because he was probably watching, and laughing his fucking ass off!
”Ouchy Dad, you’re hurting my hand!”
I release my daughter’s hand absent-mindedly, clearly annoyed by her whining and moaning.
”Whatever. Sorry I guess."
Emily pouts alongside her brother as I scan the crowd for any sign of my ex-wife and this “Rodrigo”. I sneered to myself before letting a scowl spread across my face. This trip was supposed to be about me and my family: so what the FUCK was a “Rodrigo” doing here? And how was he going to fit into the 1 bed I reserved in the hotel for my ex-wife and I?
My incredibly pertinent questions are brought to an abrupt halt as I hear the voice of a nasty whore behind me.
”Oh, hello Charles!”
I close my eyes as I shook my head, trying to quell my internal rage. I attempt to prepare myself for what I’ll see when I turn around, but truthfully, I still might just fly completely off the handle! When I finally bring myself to turn around I see my ex-wife looking as gorgeous as ever, covered from shoulder-to-thigh in a skimpy black dress that showed more than enough to get any man going. Clearly it was enough to get this “Rodrigo” going, because that yellow-bellied motherfucker was massaging her shoulders while she talked to me!
”I think this whole trip you’ve planned for us was so sweet. It really is a kind gesture, something of a rarity for you. But if you planned on me and the kids staying in one room, could you actually go ahead and get a second room for Rodrigo and I at the hotel? Oh, by the way: this is Rodrigo! He’s a new friend of mine, so I hope you don’t mind that we added the price of his ticket to the credit card number you gave to the airline.”
Connie’s lips twitch into a momentary smile. She knows exactly what buttons she is pressing right now, and I think that harlot is getting off on it. I’m fuming, but I can’t show it, because if Connie and the kids leave, whose souls will I trade for fortune and fame?
”Ola, amigo!”
Rodrigo stops rubbing my wife’s body for just long enough to extend an awkward handshake my way. I look down at that man’s hand before slowly lifting my gaze until I made contact with his brown eyes. Through gritted teeth, I reach out and shake Rodrigo’s hand. Connie’s smile couldn’t have been any smarmier: but little did she know, that smile was about to wiped off her face permanently.
”Well I’m sure you’re all tired from the flight, so why don’t we just head back to the hotel so we can all go to our rooms and unpack?”
”Sure! You can take the kids back with you. Rodrigo and I are going to go rent a sports car- don’t wait up!”
I grit my teeth and swallow my pride as I watch that slut and her new boytoy slither back into the crowd. I wanted to call out to her and stop them, but I knew it wouldn’t matter in the end. The new lovers were surely getting up to no good, but little did they know that the only seeds being planted tonight were the seeds of their own destruction.
My hands grip the cold edges of a bathroom sink as I glare into the eyes of a sad and broken man. Gazing into the glass, I see all my worst fears. A life filled with regrets, mistakes, and mindless violence has taken its toll on the monstrosity in my mirror. The man I see in the mirror is not the man I dreamed of becoming, but rather, he’s the never-ending nightmare that keeps ruining my life. His impulses, his dangerous desires, his complete disrespect for others: where did all these traits come from? Where did it all go wrong for me?
I could have been a family man, an honest father, and a loving husband. I could have been like that man in a suit at the airport. But instead? I’m just Charles Nichols- the most feared man in professional wrestling, and before that, I was the most feared man in my family’s home. I briefly wonder if Rodrigo had perhaps taken that spot from me, but truthfully, I knew that yellow-bellied son of a bitch could never torment my children or wife more than I had. Nobody could. Connie had been the testing grounds for all my greatest tricks inside and outside of the ring. Without experimenting on her, I never would’ve been able to force so many top-tier wrestlers to leave the XWF.
These were just *some* of the bitches I’ve chased out of the XWF, just like I chased my own family out of my life. I was genuinely surprised that Connie agreed to bring the family to Cambodia for vacation, and now, I’m not sure if I’ll be able to keep up my side of the coming devil’s bargain. I take another long look into the mirror before releasing a deeply sorrowful sigh. That regret ran roughshod over my wounded soul. My body was aged and weathered from years in the ring, but truthfully, my mind was far more battered. Years of pushing the envelope, taking everyone to their limits, and giving no fucks to the world had truly taken their toll. And now here I stood, shaking in the bathroom of a hotel in Cambodia, preparing for the greatest trials of my life.
Did I have the strength to conquer them? I was all alone with no support, just me against the world. When I stared into the lost eyes of Charles Nichols, I wasn’t so sure. So instead, I pulled a little plastic baggie out of my pocket. I looked closely at the fine white powder as I poured the entire bag out onto the edge of the hotel sink. My eyes widened in anticipation as the powder fell. Then, I pressed my nostril against the cold ceramic.
One snort later and I was staring back into the mirror as a new man, as a stronger man, as a NICKLEMAN! Impervious to physical pain, invulnerable to emotional damage: THE NICKLEMAN was the only kind of man I liked to be!
”You know why they call me THE NICKLEMAN, doncha’?
Because half a dimebag is all it takes to turn me into THE FUCKING MAN!
Ohhhhhhh but we all know that’s not really why they call me ‘The Nickleman’.......or do we?
I mean really, what *does* Sahara know? That bitch has a silver spoon stuck so far up her cunt she’s never had to figure anything out for herself before. “Duke” is a respected name in this industry, but where is Sahara respected? In Marcus’s bedroom? On XWF Madness? Pfffft, hardly. In both Marcus’ bedroom and on XWF Madness, Sahara can only go as far as Thaddeus will let her! Being Thad’s good little bitch is all she knows!
But Thaddeus can’t save her from me. I can’t even save her from me, even if I wanted to! Because I have so many screws loose in my head it’s starting to feel like a goddamn toolbox up there, you know what I mean? Huh…I guess that must be why everyone calls me a tool all the time. But that Dionysus is gonna find out real quick why they also call ME the greatest XWF TV Champion of all time. That pretentious bitch won their TV title twice, but guess fucking what? I won it twice, too- and you wanna know something? If you combine the length of Dionysus’ two title reigns, you know what you get?
FAILURE AND DISAPPOINTMENT!
His two combined reigns don’t even reach HALF OF EITHER of my reigns! Dionysus just isn’t capable of domination like I am. I am a one-man wrecking crew, I’ve shown it time and time again. But Dionysus? The only thing he knows how to wreck is his own success. I mean fuck, what else can you even say about a champion who loses his belt on the first defense?
That gingerbread man is no fucking match for a real, bonafide Nickleman! He’s thrived in the XWF, sure: but only in my absence. Now that he has to actually face me, he’s going to find out real fucking quick that there’s level to this shit.
And don’t even get me started on that other pretty little tweeter creature….why the hell is everyone riding Strat's jock like it's a Ford? Because he tweets good? Well holy fuck, maybe if he wrestled as good as he tweeted HE would be riding high into the second trials as the owner of ⅓ of the triad….but instead he’s just riding Vhodka’s fucking coattails! Stratford obviously wasn’t good enough last go round’, we fucking saw it in the results, I don’t give a fuck what any of his succ-media fanboys say. Stratford is clearly the weakest link in Triumvirate, so I can’t wait to fucking break him!
Stratford is so fucking pathetic, I mean, this grown-ass man is still tweeting like a fucking teenage girl! “Today I will mostly be sad” he said yesterday on twitter.....what a fucking emo bitch this Stratford is, even by his own admission! But hey, I guess I’d be sad too if I had to fight The fucking Nickleman tomorrow night!
But for some reason Vhodka Black’s gay b-f-f isn’t tweeting about me at all. All Stratford has cared about this week is “Barry Chuckle this” and “Barry Chuckle that”....because he’s more concerned with being funny on twitter than he is with winning the triad. But fuck, this dumbass is worried about the wrong ‘Chuck’! This Chuck right here is going to give Stratford a big ol’ case of deja-fuckin’-you when I set him on ANOTHER losing path in TRIAD right out of the gate.
Strat's no Vhokda Black, he's no Johnny Bacchus. When I look at this golden twitter goose all I see is my first fucking meal!"
“DADDY!”
My train of thought comes to a standstill as I hear a familiar voice calling out to me in the crowd. A voice I haven’t heard in nearly a year.
“Emily!”
My beautiful daughter breaks through the crowd, rushing to see me with her arms extended out-wide. I kneel down to hug her as she runs straight into me. The scent of chocolate and sweets follows closely behind this child, as does her younger brother.
“There’s my boy! Now are you going to come over here and give your old man a hug?”
Josh crosses his arms as he stares daggers into my soul. As I hold Emily close to my chest, I can’t help but to lock eyes with my son. His features appear to have contorted into a look of pure disgust and betrayal, forcing me to ask myself: ‘Does he know the deal that’s been made?’. Within a few seconds I shake the silly notion out of my mind before turning my attention back to my loving daughter.
“So kids…where’s your mother? She came here to see me too, right? I told that bitch I wanted to see all of you out here supporting me through these trials and tribulations!”
I release my grip on Emily as I stand up and survey the nearby crowd for any signs of my ex-wife, Connie. Emily reaches up and grabs a hold of my hand as my gaze drifts out into the crowd.
”Mom’s coming, her and Rodrigo just had to use the bathroom first!"
My head snaps towards Josh. I cock it to the side as I try to digest the beans he just spilled.
”Who the FUCK is Rodrigo?”
"Mom’s new boyfriend! He's really nice, I think you might even like him!"
Literal steam must have been blowing out of my ears, because my son immediately jumped in to try and salvage the situation. Infidelity was never one of Connie’s faults during our marriage, but she seems to have lost all sense of loyalty ever since our divorce was finalized by that bitch-ass female judge who just refused to see my side of things!
”Rodrigo even bought me a brand new ALIAS action-figure! My favorite!”
My hands clench into fists as soon as my son pulls out his second-rate wrestling toy. I lock eyes with the ALIAS action figure, and I swear to fucking God that doll was smirking at me- because he was probably watching, and laughing his fucking ass off!
”Ouchy Dad, you’re hurting my hand!”
I release my daughter’s hand absent-mindedly, clearly annoyed by her whining and moaning.
”Whatever. Sorry I guess."
Emily pouts alongside her brother as I scan the crowd for any sign of my ex-wife and this “Rodrigo”. I sneered to myself before letting a scowl spread across my face. This trip was supposed to be about me and my family: so what the FUCK was a “Rodrigo” doing here? And how was he going to fit into the 1 bed I reserved in the hotel for my ex-wife and I?
My incredibly pertinent questions are brought to an abrupt halt as I hear the voice of a nasty whore behind me.
”Oh, hello Charles!”
I close my eyes as I shook my head, trying to quell my internal rage. I attempt to prepare myself for what I’ll see when I turn around, but truthfully, I still might just fly completely off the handle! When I finally bring myself to turn around I see my ex-wife looking as gorgeous as ever, covered from shoulder-to-thigh in a skimpy black dress that showed more than enough to get any man going. Clearly it was enough to get this “Rodrigo” going, because that yellow-bellied motherfucker was massaging her shoulders while she talked to me!
”I think this whole trip you’ve planned for us was so sweet. It really is a kind gesture, something of a rarity for you. But if you planned on me and the kids staying in one room, could you actually go ahead and get a second room for Rodrigo and I at the hotel? Oh, by the way: this is Rodrigo! He’s a new friend of mine, so I hope you don’t mind that we added the price of his ticket to the credit card number you gave to the airline.”
Connie’s lips twitch into a momentary smile. She knows exactly what buttons she is pressing right now, and I think that harlot is getting off on it. I’m fuming, but I can’t show it, because if Connie and the kids leave, whose souls will I trade for fortune and fame?
”Ola, amigo!”
Rodrigo stops rubbing my wife’s body for just long enough to extend an awkward handshake my way. I look down at that man’s hand before slowly lifting my gaze until I made contact with his brown eyes. Through gritted teeth, I reach out and shake Rodrigo’s hand. Connie’s smile couldn’t have been any smarmier: but little did she know, that smile was about to wiped off her face permanently.
”Well I’m sure you’re all tired from the flight, so why don’t we just head back to the hotel so we can all go to our rooms and unpack?”
”Sure! You can take the kids back with you. Rodrigo and I are going to go rent a sports car- don’t wait up!”
I grit my teeth and swallow my pride as I watch that slut and her new boytoy slither back into the crowd. I wanted to call out to her and stop them, but I knew it wouldn’t matter in the end. The new lovers were surely getting up to no good, but little did they know that the only seeds being planted tonight were the seeds of their own destruction.
—------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
My hands grip the cold edges of a bathroom sink as I glare into the eyes of a sad and broken man. Gazing into the glass, I see all my worst fears. A life filled with regrets, mistakes, and mindless violence has taken its toll on the monstrosity in my mirror. The man I see in the mirror is not the man I dreamed of becoming, but rather, he’s the never-ending nightmare that keeps ruining my life. His impulses, his dangerous desires, his complete disrespect for others: where did all these traits come from? Where did it all go wrong for me?
I could have been a family man, an honest father, and a loving husband. I could have been like that man in a suit at the airport. But instead? I’m just Charles Nichols- the most feared man in professional wrestling, and before that, I was the most feared man in my family’s home. I briefly wonder if Rodrigo had perhaps taken that spot from me, but truthfully, I knew that yellow-bellied son of a bitch could never torment my children or wife more than I had. Nobody could. Connie had been the testing grounds for all my greatest tricks inside and outside of the ring. Without experimenting on her, I never would’ve been able to force so many top-tier wrestlers to leave the XWF.
Atara Themis.
Betsy Granger.
Peter Vaughn.
ALIAS!
These were just *some* of the bitches I’ve chased out of the XWF, just like I chased my own family out of my life. I was genuinely surprised that Connie agreed to bring the family to Cambodia for vacation, and now, I’m not sure if I’ll be able to keep up my side of the coming devil’s bargain. I take another long look into the mirror before releasing a deeply sorrowful sigh. That regret ran roughshod over my wounded soul. My body was aged and weathered from years in the ring, but truthfully, my mind was far more battered. Years of pushing the envelope, taking everyone to their limits, and giving no fucks to the world had truly taken their toll. And now here I stood, shaking in the bathroom of a hotel in Cambodia, preparing for the greatest trials of my life.
Did I have the strength to conquer them? I was all alone with no support, just me against the world. When I stared into the lost eyes of Charles Nichols, I wasn’t so sure. So instead, I pulled a little plastic baggie out of my pocket. I looked closely at the fine white powder as I poured the entire bag out onto the edge of the hotel sink. My eyes widened in anticipation as the powder fell. Then, I pressed my nostril against the cold ceramic.
PHUT!
One snort later and I was staring back into the mirror as a new man, as a stronger man, as a NICKLEMAN! Impervious to physical pain, invulnerable to emotional damage: THE NICKLEMAN was the only kind of man I liked to be!
”You know why they call me THE NICKLEMAN, doncha’?
Because half a dimebag is all it takes to turn me into THE FUCKING MAN!
Ohhhhhhh but we all know that’s not really why they call me ‘The Nickleman’.......or do we?
I mean really, what *does* Sahara know? That bitch has a silver spoon stuck so far up her cunt she’s never had to figure anything out for herself before. “Duke” is a respected name in this industry, but where is Sahara respected? In Marcus’s bedroom? On XWF Madness? Pfffft, hardly. In both Marcus’ bedroom and on XWF Madness, Sahara can only go as far as Thaddeus will let her! Being Thad’s good little bitch is all she knows!
But Thaddeus can’t save her from me. I can’t even save her from me, even if I wanted to! Because I have so many screws loose in my head it’s starting to feel like a goddamn toolbox up there, you know what I mean? Huh…I guess that must be why everyone calls me a tool all the time. But that Dionysus is gonna find out real quick why they also call ME the greatest XWF TV Champion of all time. That pretentious bitch won their TV title twice, but guess fucking what? I won it twice, too- and you wanna know something? If you combine the length of Dionysus’ two title reigns, you know what you get?
FAILURE AND DISAPPOINTMENT!
His two combined reigns don’t even reach HALF OF EITHER of my reigns! Dionysus just isn’t capable of domination like I am. I am a one-man wrecking crew, I’ve shown it time and time again. But Dionysus? The only thing he knows how to wreck is his own success. I mean fuck, what else can you even say about a champion who loses his belt on the first defense?
That gingerbread man is no fucking match for a real, bonafide Nickleman! He’s thrived in the XWF, sure: but only in my absence. Now that he has to actually face me, he’s going to find out real fucking quick that there’s level to this shit.
And don’t even get me started on that other pretty little tweeter creature….why the hell is everyone riding Strat's jock like it's a Ford? Because he tweets good? Well holy fuck, maybe if he wrestled as good as he tweeted HE would be riding high into the second trials as the owner of ⅓ of the triad….but instead he’s just riding Vhodka’s fucking coattails! Stratford obviously wasn’t good enough last go round’, we fucking saw it in the results, I don’t give a fuck what any of his succ-media fanboys say. Stratford is clearly the weakest link in Triumvirate, so I can’t wait to fucking break him!
Stratford is so fucking pathetic, I mean, this grown-ass man is still tweeting like a fucking teenage girl! “Today I will mostly be sad” he said yesterday on twitter.....what a fucking emo bitch this Stratford is, even by his own admission! But hey, I guess I’d be sad too if I had to fight The fucking Nickleman tomorrow night!
But for some reason Vhodka Black’s gay b-f-f isn’t tweeting about me at all. All Stratford has cared about this week is “Barry Chuckle this” and “Barry Chuckle that”....because he’s more concerned with being funny on twitter than he is with winning the triad. But fuck, this dumbass is worried about the wrong ‘Chuck’! This Chuck right here is going to give Stratford a big ol’ case of deja-fuckin’-you when I set him on ANOTHER losing path in TRIAD right out of the gate.
Strat's no Vhokda Black, he's no Johnny Bacchus. When I look at this golden twitter goose all I see is my first fucking meal!"
