Post by The Nickleman on Nov 12, 2023 23:42:46 GMT -5
Sweat sizzles off the fabric as a burning iron is pressed against it. The subtle scent of burning polyester fills The Nickleman’s nostrils as he grits through his busted teeth. Sporting a black eye and a busted lip, The Nickleman looks all the worse for wear as he stands shirtless in the middle of his hotel room. He runs the iron back and forth over a plaid shirt before he slowly raises his gaze to meet the camera.
“The difference between what happens, and what was expected….”
The shirtless brute stares back down at his ironing board as he lets the iron rest still, causing a trail of smoke to rise from off the burning plaid.
“It’s what happens when a man’s actions and words set forth a clear meaning that eludes only himself.”
The Nickleman lifts up the iron and sets to a standing position on the board.
“Irony, yeah?
My world is filled with it. My words are filled with it. My life is defined by it. I was the single greatest wrestler to sign up for the first round of the draft, and what happened? I was passed over and left to rot….oh the irony. And what has happened since? No one could have seen it coming…but this story I’m telling, this trail that I’m on? Baby, it’s far from over.
So just sit back and try to relax, because there’s still so many twists and turns ahead….and if you’re not careful, my irony-”
The shirtless bastard grabs the iron off the board and waves it around menacingly.
“My IRONY might just crack your fucking skull!”
The Nickleman’s ranting and raving is cut short by a sudden tapping on his window. The bastard’s expression goes blank as he turns around. He gulps as he sets his sights on the late-night visitor through the glass. Sitting on the other side of the window is a restless black cat, tapping it’s bloody paw on the window, leaving traces of red on the glass. Besides the black cat stand two white cats, each hissing through bared fangs.
The Nickleman sighs with deep regret as he sets the iron down. The cats hiss at him in unison as he approaches the window, intent on opening it to welcome his new “business partners”.
“FEEEEEED USSSSSSS”
The morning light rises slowly over the wooded outskirts of town as The Nickleman walks uphill along a rocky path. His restless eyes give away his sleepless night, but at least his plaid shirt looks clean and wrinkle free: except for the big burn mark covering the spot where his heart should be. Three cats follow close behind the bastard, meowing loudly and occasionally nipping at his heels.
“Holy hell- calm your hags down, you witch! I’m working on the doe and the fawns, alright? I got the appetizer coming this morning to tide you over!”
*MEOW*
The Nickleman rolls his eyes as the black cat screeches in response. The two white cats are positioned on either side of their leader, keeping up an exact pace right behind The Nickleman.
“Look, I’m keeping up my end of the deal, okay! A promise is a promise, even if your negotiating tactics were a bit underhanded, you know, by threatening to eat me if I didn’t comply!”
*MEOW*
The Nickleman suddenly stops along the path. He turns back around to face the cats as he kneels down in front of them, staring directly into the eyes of the black cat as he talks.
“I’m not going to change the terms of our contract midway through, okay? But you witches need to keep up your end of the bargain! You’re supposed to bless me with dark powers, curse me with great strength at the cost of it all! I’m not a free meal-ticket, and I won’t let you turn me into one! Daddy always gets paid….capeesh?”
*MEOW*
“You drive a hard-fucking bargain, but I’m in no position to refuse. You want my children and my beautiful wife? Fine- you’re going to get them: but not yet.”
*MEOW!*
“Not until I see some fucking results for my efforts! You say you don’t have the power to bestow the dark gift upon me until you’ve fed…well, when you show me how far an appetizer gets me, then I’ll be more than happy to bring you the full-course meal!”
“Uh….Charles?”
The cats scatter in every direction as The Nickleman suddenly jumps to his feet. Standing nearby on the rocky road is Rodrigo, the well-built boytoy of Nickleman’s ex-wife.
“Were you just…talking to the cats?”
Rodrigo raises his eyebrow with a healthy mix of skepticism and curiosity, but The Nickleman waves away his concerns.
“Nevermind that! So buddy, you ready for our hike?”
“Hike? I thought you said you wanted to get breakfast!”
“Well, uh- yeah! But the best breakfast spot in Siem Reap is actually out in the woods, just a short hike- I know it’s a lot, but the guys on my team were just raving about this place last week!”
Rodrigo looks between The Nickleman and the thicket of forestry behind him.
“Well amigo….lead the way, I suppose…”
“With pleasure.”
The Nickleman grins with devilish delight as he escorts Rodrigo into the Cambodian woods. A trail of three cats can be seen following the pair from a distance as they duck into the tree line.
I will sacrifice everyone.
We cut back to a shot of The Nickleman and Rodrigo hiking through a trail in the Cambodian forest. Songbirds fly overhead, scurrying from their nests as they hear the hungry meows of the three cats following nearby.
“Where the hell is this restaurant, esse?”
“We’re getting close, don’t you worry…meal-time is almost here.”
“Meal-time? You mean breakfast?”
“Yeah, whatever the cats call it….”
Rodrigo looks back at the trailing cats in confusion.
“Amigo, are these your cats? You’re not trying to raise some sort of cat family to take the place of your real family, are you, esse?”
The Nickleman looks back to Rodrigo as the cats meow about.
“No, of course not! I barely even know these cats, and I will always be a strong presence in the life of my children. My family is still my family- hell, technically even my wife is still my wife, until death do us part!”
“Amigo, the niños haven’t seen you in months! Emily and Tyler were wondering if you were ever going to come back to Ohio, until you suddenly called out of the blue and said you booked a trip for Cambodia. It was…unexpected.”
“Tyler? Huh….I thought the boy’s name was Josh.”
“Amigo, how many drogas have you been doing?!”
“Enough. Not enough. One or the other, typically. Now come on, let’s keep it moving.”
Rodrigo stops dead in his tracks, soliciting a groan from the Nickleman and pained meows of hunger from the three pretty kitties.
“Amigo, please! I know this isn’t my place, but you really need to get your act together for those little niños. And for yourself! You need to clean up, get sober, and get your head back on your shoulders. You’ve got this big wrestling competition, and you’ve got little ones who need you in their life for more than just one-off vacations….amigo, if there’s anything I can do to help you on this journey, just let me know. We’re family now, you and me.”
The Nickleman scoffs at the offer from his eskimo-brother.
“How about you stop porking my fucking bitch, how about that?”
“Amigo…you shouldn’t talk about Connie like that!”
The Nickleman rolls his eyes in annoyance as he crosses his arms over his chest.
“And why the fuck not? She left a great man like me for a half-breed like you. What the fuck do you even bring to the table?”
Rodrigo’s face goes sour as he looks around the woodlands, then back at The Nickleman. Rodrigo’s eyes narrow at the ever-abusive Nickleman as he considers how to respond. Bitter tension fills the space between the two men for several seconds, until a lighthearted chuckle from Rodrigo breaks the silence.
“Amigo….I eat her pussy.”
Rodrigo sports a cocky grin as The Nickleman squints his eyes with controlled rage.
“Oh yeah, you like pussy-eating, do yah?”
“Yeah amigo, I do!”
Rodrigo says with his chest puffed-out as he steps toward the Nickleman.
“Well…good. Then you shouldn’t have any complaints about what happens next.”
The Nickleman looks around the woodland area, ensuring that they’re far enough off the main roads for any screams to be heard.
“Ladies…he’s all yours. Hope you like Mexican.”
The Nickleman looks down at the cats with a knowing nod before turning his back on Rodrigo and walking away.
“Wh-what?”
Rodrigo looks down as the three cats start moving towards him from different directions. Their pained meows of hunger grow deeper and deeper with every passing second. The cats’ bones slither beneath their skin like snakes, snapping and cracking as they elongate. The false flesh is ripped from their bodies as the creatures grow violently, revealing the hideous forms of a witch and her two hags hidden behind the illusion.
“Wait, what’s happening?! Charles, where are you going?! AMIGO!”
The camera cuts back to a shot of The Nickleman’s face as he walks through the brush, ducking beneath branches and stepping over fallen trees. A sinister smile slides onto his face as he hears the carnage of the feast unfolding behind him.
“One down, three to go….”
“The difference between what happens, and what was expected….”
The shirtless brute stares back down at his ironing board as he lets the iron rest still, causing a trail of smoke to rise from off the burning plaid.
“It’s what happens when a man’s actions and words set forth a clear meaning that eludes only himself.”
The Nickleman lifts up the iron and sets to a standing position on the board.
“Irony, yeah?
My world is filled with it. My words are filled with it. My life is defined by it. I was the single greatest wrestler to sign up for the first round of the draft, and what happened? I was passed over and left to rot….oh the irony. And what has happened since? No one could have seen it coming…but this story I’m telling, this trail that I’m on? Baby, it’s far from over.
So just sit back and try to relax, because there’s still so many twists and turns ahead….and if you’re not careful, my irony-”
The shirtless bastard grabs the iron off the board and waves it around menacingly.
“My IRONY might just crack your fucking skull!”
The Nickleman’s ranting and raving is cut short by a sudden tapping on his window. The bastard’s expression goes blank as he turns around. He gulps as he sets his sights on the late-night visitor through the glass. Sitting on the other side of the window is a restless black cat, tapping it’s bloody paw on the window, leaving traces of red on the glass. Besides the black cat stand two white cats, each hissing through bared fangs.
The Nickleman sighs with deep regret as he sets the iron down. The cats hiss at him in unison as he approaches the window, intent on opening it to welcome his new “business partners”.
What would you give to win the TRIAD?
It’s a question we’re all asked, but does anyone truly answer?
What would YOU give, to win the TRIAD?
110%? Your best effort? Everything you had? Fuck…what else is new? Everyone is giving their best effort when that bell rings, we already know that, that’s why we’re here competing on the biggest stage in all of professional wrestling. Giving your best was a prerequisite to stepping through that door and entering this trial of legends. That cookie-cutter bullshit just isn’t going to get it done at this level of the game.
So what are you going to give, that distinguishes you from the rest of these chumps?
What will you SACRIFICE, to become greatness incarnate?
It’s a question everyone pretends to ask themselves, but no one truly answers. No one except me. I made a deal with the darkness to earn my spot in this competition, and it’s a deal I intend to honor.
So, what would I give to win the TRIAD?
Heh, well for me, it’s more like….’who’.
The morning light rises slowly over the wooded outskirts of town as The Nickleman walks uphill along a rocky path. His restless eyes give away his sleepless night, but at least his plaid shirt looks clean and wrinkle free: except for the big burn mark covering the spot where his heart should be. Three cats follow close behind the bastard, meowing loudly and occasionally nipping at his heels.
“Holy hell- calm your hags down, you witch! I’m working on the doe and the fawns, alright? I got the appetizer coming this morning to tide you over!”
*MEOW*
The Nickleman rolls his eyes as the black cat screeches in response. The two white cats are positioned on either side of their leader, keeping up an exact pace right behind The Nickleman.
“Look, I’m keeping up my end of the deal, okay! A promise is a promise, even if your negotiating tactics were a bit underhanded, you know, by threatening to eat me if I didn’t comply!”
*MEOW*
The Nickleman suddenly stops along the path. He turns back around to face the cats as he kneels down in front of them, staring directly into the eyes of the black cat as he talks.
“I’m not going to change the terms of our contract midway through, okay? But you witches need to keep up your end of the bargain! You’re supposed to bless me with dark powers, curse me with great strength at the cost of it all! I’m not a free meal-ticket, and I won’t let you turn me into one! Daddy always gets paid….capeesh?”
*MEOW*
“You drive a hard-fucking bargain, but I’m in no position to refuse. You want my children and my beautiful wife? Fine- you’re going to get them: but not yet.”
*MEOW!*
“Not until I see some fucking results for my efforts! You say you don’t have the power to bestow the dark gift upon me until you’ve fed…well, when you show me how far an appetizer gets me, then I’ll be more than happy to bring you the full-course meal!”
“Uh….Charles?”
The cats scatter in every direction as The Nickleman suddenly jumps to his feet. Standing nearby on the rocky road is Rodrigo, the well-built boytoy of Nickleman’s ex-wife.
“Were you just…talking to the cats?”
Rodrigo raises his eyebrow with a healthy mix of skepticism and curiosity, but The Nickleman waves away his concerns.
“Nevermind that! So buddy, you ready for our hike?”
“Hike? I thought you said you wanted to get breakfast!”
“Well, uh- yeah! But the best breakfast spot in Siem Reap is actually out in the woods, just a short hike- I know it’s a lot, but the guys on my team were just raving about this place last week!”
Rodrigo looks between The Nickleman and the thicket of forestry behind him.
“Well amigo….lead the way, I suppose…”
“With pleasure.”
The Nickleman grins with devilish delight as he escorts Rodrigo into the Cambodian woods. A trail of three cats can be seen following the pair from a distance as they duck into the tree line.
I will sacrifice everything to be great. To be remembered. To be feared.
I will sacrifice everyone.
What would YOU sacrifice for a spot at the top? What would you place upon that sacred altar, to be seen again, nevermore?
Marx, Duke, Wolf….I’m not asking you this question: I’m just naming my sacrifices.
None of you pussies have the strength to give it all up, to let everything go just for a shot at glory. So I will have to show each and every one of you what true strength looks like, through blood and through pain, I will sacrifice you all on the altar of the TRIAD. Your blood will spill in that ring and the vultures in the audience will feast upon your demise. Those fans don’t care for you, they don’t want you kept safe and sound for the next round: they just want to see blood spill and skulls crack.
Better yours than mine, eh?
Sahara Duke was lucky that I never got my hands on her in the last match. She played it smart and kept far away from me until I was out of the picture, but this time I won’t let myself get distracted by wannabe-TV champs. This time, I’m coming straight for that pretty blonde bitch: and I’m going to gut her like they do all in my favorite snuff films! Pretty faces like Sahara’s don’t belong in the ring, they’re far too delicate for that….they belong stuffed and tucked on my fucking fireplace mantle!
But that Wolf-woman? She’s not pretty enough to step one fucking foot in my house, and baby, ALL of TRIAD is my house! I burst in through that front door during the draft, and now I’m kicking my feet up on the coffee table with my dick just swangin’ everywhere. I’m claiming ownership, and the only place that furry chick belongs is in the trash. I won’t even let that wolf-skin rug stay beneath my feet, because she’s probably covered in loose tobacco from all those cigarettes she rolls with her pussy lips!
And Marx….oh Marx. You were so much better as a promoter. So much safer. But you want to play with the big boys now. This husky Caillou cosplayer thinks he has what it takes to become a pro wrestler…fucking Christ, but he won’t be thinking much at all anymore after I’m done with him! A couple DEVIL HOOK DROPS and this bloated barfbag won’t even remember his name!
These three pussies are coming into this match filled with false hopes and distant dreams. I will devour them, consume their energy, and move on from this fight stronger than ever. My goal is to brutalize each and every one of them to a point beyond recognition. Their only goal should be survival.
These three pussies are coming into this match filled with false hopes and distant dreams. I will devour them, consume their energy, and move on from this fight stronger than ever. My goal is to brutalize each and every one of them to a point beyond recognition. Their only goal should be survival.
But that's just the cost you have to pay to be great. You are all going to see firsthand the sacrifices that I make, and even better, the sacrifices that I TAKE!
We cut back to a shot of The Nickleman and Rodrigo hiking through a trail in the Cambodian forest. Songbirds fly overhead, scurrying from their nests as they hear the hungry meows of the three cats following nearby.
“Where the hell is this restaurant, esse?”
“We’re getting close, don’t you worry…meal-time is almost here.”
“Meal-time? You mean breakfast?”
“Yeah, whatever the cats call it….”
Rodrigo looks back at the trailing cats in confusion.
“Amigo, are these your cats? You’re not trying to raise some sort of cat family to take the place of your real family, are you, esse?”
The Nickleman looks back to Rodrigo as the cats meow about.
“No, of course not! I barely even know these cats, and I will always be a strong presence in the life of my children. My family is still my family- hell, technically even my wife is still my wife, until death do us part!”
“Amigo, the niños haven’t seen you in months! Emily and Tyler were wondering if you were ever going to come back to Ohio, until you suddenly called out of the blue and said you booked a trip for Cambodia. It was…unexpected.”
“Tyler? Huh….I thought the boy’s name was Josh.”
“Amigo, how many drogas have you been doing?!”
“Enough. Not enough. One or the other, typically. Now come on, let’s keep it moving.”
Rodrigo stops dead in his tracks, soliciting a groan from the Nickleman and pained meows of hunger from the three pretty kitties.
“Amigo, please! I know this isn’t my place, but you really need to get your act together for those little niños. And for yourself! You need to clean up, get sober, and get your head back on your shoulders. You’ve got this big wrestling competition, and you’ve got little ones who need you in their life for more than just one-off vacations….amigo, if there’s anything I can do to help you on this journey, just let me know. We’re family now, you and me.”
The Nickleman scoffs at the offer from his eskimo-brother.
“How about you stop porking my fucking bitch, how about that?”
“Amigo…you shouldn’t talk about Connie like that!”
The Nickleman rolls his eyes in annoyance as he crosses his arms over his chest.
“And why the fuck not? She left a great man like me for a half-breed like you. What the fuck do you even bring to the table?”
Rodrigo’s face goes sour as he looks around the woodlands, then back at The Nickleman. Rodrigo’s eyes narrow at the ever-abusive Nickleman as he considers how to respond. Bitter tension fills the space between the two men for several seconds, until a lighthearted chuckle from Rodrigo breaks the silence.
“Amigo….I eat her pussy.”
Rodrigo sports a cocky grin as The Nickleman squints his eyes with controlled rage.
“Oh yeah, you like pussy-eating, do yah?”
“Yeah amigo, I do!”
Rodrigo says with his chest puffed-out as he steps toward the Nickleman.
“Well…good. Then you shouldn’t have any complaints about what happens next.”
The Nickleman looks around the woodland area, ensuring that they’re far enough off the main roads for any screams to be heard.
“Ladies…he’s all yours. Hope you like Mexican.”
The Nickleman looks down at the cats with a knowing nod before turning his back on Rodrigo and walking away.
“Wh-what?”
Rodrigo looks down as the three cats start moving towards him from different directions. Their pained meows of hunger grow deeper and deeper with every passing second. The cats’ bones slither beneath their skin like snakes, snapping and cracking as they elongate. The false flesh is ripped from their bodies as the creatures grow violently, revealing the hideous forms of a witch and her two hags hidden behind the illusion.
“Wait, what’s happening?! Charles, where are you going?! AMIGO!”
The camera cuts back to a shot of The Nickleman’s face as he walks through the brush, ducking beneath branches and stepping over fallen trees. A sinister smile slides onto his face as he hears the carnage of the feast unfolding behind him.
“One down, three to go….”
