Post by The Nickleman on May 30, 2023 10:59:24 GMT -5
VVVVVVRRRRRRRRRRRRRRROOOOOOOOOOOOOOOMMMMMM
A red hummer limo speeds past the camera, racing along a rural stretch of highway with no one else in sight. Longtime viewers of BOB programming would immediately recognize the stretch hummer as the ‘Bastard’s Limousine’, but most people probably just see a really fancy car going really fast. The scene pauses for a brief second, allowing us to zoom in and catch a glimpse of the driver’s face through the window.
It’s the one and only Nickleman!
He’s hunched over the steering wheel like a madman with a twisted look glued to his face. While the scene is still paused a BOB-branded speedometer pops up briefly in the bottom corner of the screen reading ‘69’.
Nice!
VVVVVVRRRRRRRRRRRRRRROOOOOOOOOOOOOOOMMMMMM
The camera zooms out and the scene flashes back to life as The Nickleman presses the pedal to the metal. The Bastard starts burning the rubber off the tires as he pushes the Bastard’s limo along the crumbling infrastructure of America’s heartland. Bits and pieces of asphalt fly off into the ditch as the wheels of the heavy-duty limo rip across the rural road.
The camera cuts to a close-up shot inside the limousine, positioned from the perspective of the passenger seat. We see The Nickleman driving recklessly with bloodshot eyes and no seatbelt, furiously guzzling down a can of code red mountain dew. His body twitches slightly every few seconds, and the tremendous bags under his eyes show The Nickleman’s exhaustion.
Yet still The Nickleman presses on relentlessly, rocking his head back and forth as the limo’s radio blasts his own entrance music on loop. The Nickleman makes little drumsticks with his fingers, playing them on the steering wheel when the drum solo begins. He turns to face the camera with a big toothy smile…he hasn’t looked this happy in a while!
Nickleman: Bobby Bourbon and Thunder Knuckles are going to love this song, they just have to listen to it enough!
The Nickleman turns his head back while still driving, hollering to the back of the limo.
Nickleman: HEY BOYS! How you liking these sick jams?! They getting you pumped up to slay some demons or what?!
The silence echoes for what seems like eternity. The Nickleman scratches his head before a sudden realization kicks in.
Nickleman: Oh right…the divider is up! I forgot why I put that up….
The camera turns around to the back of the limo and, sure enough, the barrier is still up : but not for long. Within a few seconds The Nickleman must’ve pressed the button, because the barrier slowly starts pulling itself down.
Nickleman: So, like I was saying, how are you Bastards liking these groovy tune-’
The Nickleman immediately falls silent once the barricade is removed. We see two people sitting in the backseat, only it’s not Bobby and TK. It’s two school-aged children, one girl and one boy. The girl looks to be just a couple years older, and if her crossed arms are any indication, she’s already fed up with this field trip gone wrong.
Nickleman: Shit….right…..this was why. I forg-
Emily: Let me guess, dad: you FORGOT! Maybe if you turned down this terrible music you could focus on us!
Tyler: Again?! You forgot that we existed AGAIN?! Daaaaaad, you’re supposed to love us!
The Nickleman rushes to cut off the music as he fumbles through his mandatory non-apology.
Nickleman: Emily…Tyler….of course I love you! And I didn’t forget you existed, I just forgot you were here! I’m so used to driving Them No Good Bastards around in this thing, you know it’s not my fault! Usually your mom has custody of you anyways…ever since that night she fell down the stairs seven times…..and ran into a couple doors….
The Nickleman visibly cringes as he remembers all the horror he put his ex-wife through. He can’t quite shake the guilt- nor should he.
Emily: So why can’t she just take us again?
The Nickleman’s remorse quickly turns to a flash of anger.
Nickleman: Because your mother is a whore who’s on a vacation with her fuckbuddy Pedro! Fucking bitch! So she dumped you on my doorstep on this, one of the most important weeks of my life! Real piece of work she is. Didn’t even have the decency to wait until AFTER my ayahuasca training….that bitch.
The children become uncomfortable and quickly look away.
Tyler: I liked you better when you weren’t around….
Charles Nichols sighs softly as he slows the limousine down and brings it to a complete stop along the side of the road. The Nickleman flicks off the engine as he turns on the flashing hazard lights. He turns back to his children and places his hand on the space where the divider would usually be. He lets out one long, dreary sigh before laying into his apology.
Nickleman: I’m sorry for my outburst…I know I shouldn’t talk about your mother like that, especially not in front of you- and I’m sorry I haven’t been the most present father. I’ve just been dealing with a lot of stress at work lately and I can’t get it off my mind. It’s really dragging me down and wearing me out. For some reason it’s taking up all of my energy, all of my focus, all of my passion. I can’t relax, no matter what I do or what I take. It’s always there, at the back of my mind, gnawing at me: pressing me into action, calling my name, a destiny just waiting to be written in the blood of my enemies….but for some reason, the people at the very top of the pyramid just won’t let me write it.
The Nickleman shakes his head softly before turning away from his spawn and looking through the windshield with the gaze of a defeated man. He speaks with an uncharacteristic softness to his voice.
Nickleman: But you kids wouldn’t understand anything about that….I guess these burdens are mine to hold alone.
Tyler and Emily look back to their downtrodden father with a shared look of pain. Emily bites her lip and leans away, unsure of what she can say: but her younger brother leans forward, tapping The Nickleman on the shoulder.
Tyler: Well….we can try to understand if you tell us. But things can only get better if you talk about them! That’s what my teacher always says, and I love Mrs. Grenier!
Tyler flashes a bright and cheery smile at his father, and it seems to do the trick. A slight twitch of The Nickleman’s lips are all he shows, but on the inside, he’s feeling true joy.
Nickleman: Well, I suppose I can tell you kids all about it while we finish our drive….I think I’d like that…but who the fuck is Mrs. Grenier?
Emily: Tyler’s teacher……but you’d know that if you ever went to our parent teacher conferences.
The Nickleman shakes his head in confusion before twisting the keys in the ignition. The hummer comes roaring back to life, scaring some nearby fowl into flight. The Nickleman unnecessarily adjusts his rearview mirror before pushing the pedal and pulling the stretch limo back onto the crumbling highway at much more moderate speeds.
Tyler: So tell us dad, what’s happening at work?
The Nickleman inhales sharply, immediately tensing up as he thinks about the ongoing shenanigans in OCW. He grips the steering wheel even tighter when he starts to talk.
Nickleman: I’ve really got my back against the wall now, kiddos. All my friends are gone so it’s up to me and me alone to stop the demons from taking complete control of Online Wrestling. I’m the big star the company needs to get the viewers back and increase their prestige. I can put OCW on my back and drag it out of the depths, but the damn idiots in charge of the place don’t trust me enough to give me the chance! The company is burning all around me while the demons dance in the flames, and I’m the only one who can stop them!
The Nickleman sighs softly as he lets it all out. The kids look between each other nervously, especially at every mention of the word ‘demons’. Yet still, The Nickleman looks to be more at peace as he shares his worries about the world.
Nickleman: It’s a lot of pressure for one man to take on his own….but I’m trying to handle it the best I can, because that’s what the OCW fans deserve….you know kids we don’t get the chance to talk much anymore….or ever, really. That was nice to get all that stuff off my chest. We should chat more often, the three of us amigos.
That’s when Emily leans forward.
Emily: I like talking to you, dad…but why do you always have to bring weird people like him around?
Emily points directly to the camera, or rather, to the man who’s holding it steady in the passenger seat.
Nickleman: What, you mean ol’ Dirt Nasty Gregg? He’s not weird, he just smells like that!
Greg: I wish you’d stop calling me that….and that smell is definitely your B.O., not mine!
The Nickleman turns to directly face the camera, or rather, the man behind the camera
Nickleman: Well that’s your name, isn’t it?
Greg: It’s just ‘Greg’, actually…
The Nickleman’s face twists and contorts into an unnatural shape. He cocks his head to the side, as if he can’t believe what was just said.
Nickleman: Greg? Just Greg? Is that even a name?
The Nickleman squints hard at the camera man, but before Greg can respond The Nickleman waves away the entire notion.
Nickleman: Ahhh forget it Dirt Nasty, it doesn’t really matter.
The Nickleman turns back to his daughter, Emily, who’s sitting in the rearseat of the limousine with her arms still crossed.
Nickleman: What’s really important, kids, is that ol’ Bitchy Greg here uses that flashy camera of his to capture everything I do in high def motion picture. I’m one of the biggest stars in the digital world of Online Wrestling, and everything I do is worth a thousand bucks to my biggest fans. Ol’ Shitdick Greg is here to make sure no good moment goes to waste.
Emily: Ugh…you always care so much about the ‘fans’, what about us and what we want? We don’t want weirdos with cameras always hanging out with us.
Nickleman: Well, Emily….
Emily crosses her arms as she makes contact with her father in the rear view mirror.
Emily: And where the heck are we even going, anyways? It better not suck!
Nickleman: We’re going to the only place I can go to prepare in a time like this, with so many demons to slay and so little time to do it. The ancient ayahuasca training grounds.
Emily throws her hands up in a clear sign of frustration.
Emily: What does eyewhoswastika even mean?! You’re always so weird and cryptic!
Charles shakes his head at his daughter in the rear view mirror.
Nickleman: It’s not cryptic or weird! Ayahuasca is an ancient warrior’s tradition, it’s how they used to prepare for major battles befor-
Tyler: DAAAAAD!
The Nickleman turns his attention to his son.
Nickleman: What, Tyler?
The young boy leans forward while tucking his hands in between his legs.
Tyler; I have to pee, like reaaallly bad!
The Nickleman can’t help but laugh, even as his daughter pouts over in the corner.
Nickleman: We’ll stop at the next gas station, and you can go there. Plus, we can all get beef jerky sticks and more pop! How’s that sound kids, okay?
Tyler: YES!
Emily: Whatever….
Emily leans back and rolls her eyes, annoyed with both her father and her overstimulated brother. The young boy is rocking back and forth in excitement, holding his bladder the best he can.
Tyler: But we need to hurry!
Nickleman: Roger that!
The Nickleman flips his theme music back on as he presses the pedal to the metal. The camera cuts to an exterior shot of the Bastard’s limo as the hummer rips across the rural road, racing towards the nearest gas station as we fade to black.
We hear four car doors slamming shut before the camera comes back to life. We open with a shot of a large tepee made of buffalo hide set against a cloudy midnight sky. The only light to guide you is the small campfire in front of the teepee: there are no stars in sight, that is until The Nickleman steps in front of the camera. Trailing closely behind the last ever Savage Champion are his two little ducklings, his tired children.
Emily: Where are we? I’m tired!
Nickleman: We’re finally here, Emily, at the ‘ayahuasca training grounds’ nestled deep within the mountains of New Mexico.
Two native american men come walking out of the teepee dressed out in traditional regalia, one tall and one very very short. Almost midget levels of short: but not quite.
Tall: Great white man! You’ve made it.
Short. Hmmph. Much later than he said. And with children.
Tall: But did you bring payment?
Nickleman: Of course I did! I take my training very seriously, you know!
The Nickleman pulls out a ludicrously large sum of money from his pants pocket, all in freshly folded 100 dollar bills.
Nickleman: This will be enough, right? It’s my entire signing bonus for Access Denied 2! I heard this is what Aaron Rodgers did, so I figure if it’s good enough for him it should be good enough for me!
The two native americans light up immediately when they see just how much money this drug-addicted athlete has brought to them.
Tall: Absolutely, sir! You giving us all this money will definitely help you get in good with the great sky eagle!
Nickleman: Perfect, I need as much help as I can get now that everyone else in BOB has lost their spines!
The Nickleman hands over the money in the dark of the night. The fire crackling in the distance casts a long shadow over the deal.
Tall: Tonko, take this great man’s children to the sleeping cabin! Their father must begin his preparations.
Tonko: At once, Mr. Tall!
Tonko walks forward to usher the children away, but they look hesitant.
Nickleman: It’s ok, kids! He won’t molest you: I’m pretty sure all these Indian guys are eunuchs!
The natives look between each other with a shared look of offense, but neither one says anything because the money is just too good. Eventually Tyler and Emily are ushered off screen, and that’s when Mr. Tall starts leading The Nickleman into the buffalo hide teepee.
Mr. Tall: You are about to imbibe in one of our tribe’s great traditions. The spirits will be with, within, and around you: be prepared to accept what they have to say, but do not anticipate that all their words to you will be kind. You are about to take a trip into the otherside of our existence, where the true faces of men come out and the masks come off. Are you ready to find out who you truly are beneath that skin, great white man?
Nickleman: Born ready.
The tall native man nods and grunts as he enters into the completely dark teepee with The Nickleman.
Mr: Tall: Sit down here.
Mr. Tall gestures for The Nickleman to sit down in the center of the floor. The native man reaches into his trousers and pulls out a vial containing a clear liquid. He squeezes the contens of the vial under The Nickleman’s tongue.
Mr. Tall: The effects will take effect quickly, so be prepared!
Nickleman: How fast are we talking? And when did that juggling monkey get in here with us?
Mr Tall: You’re already seeing the juggling monkey? Good, good! That means the ayahuasca is working! Keep your eyes closed, and tell me what else you see!
Nickleman: I just see that dang monkey, he’s so cute!
Mr. Tall: Look around, great white man! What do you see?
Nickleman: I see, I see….
As The Nickleman starts looking around the pitch black teepee, the tone of his voice slowly changes. Even though the crackling fire outside the tent provides just enough light inside the tent for us to see that it’s empty, The Nickleman seems to be seeing something different. Mr. Tall leans forward inquisitively, encouraging Charles to tell us everything the spirits tell him.
Mr. Tall: What are you seeing?
Nickleman: A fire raging through my home, burning up everything I love! And those demons…those damned demons are laughing about it! They don’t care that our world is burning, they just want to be the only ones left standing in the ashes! All they care about is recapturing their old glory, with the shadow of their former selves being cast across the land! Those vile demons don’t care about this company, don’t care about our fans…they only care about themselves.
Mr: Tall: These demons, do they have faces?
Nickleman: One does, the other one wears a hooded cloak……I’ve seen these faces before. It’s SYNN and PLETHORA! They’re burning OCW to the ground with their selfishness! They don’t care about the company like I do, they only care about glorifying themselves!
Mr. Tall: And what do you hear?
Nickleman: I hear the people in the flames, burning alive! They’re the OCW fans! They’re screaming my name, begging for help! But I can’t help them!
Mr. Tall: Why not?
Nickleman: The Straders won’t let me! They’re holding me back, stopping me from saving the world! The living one and the dead one both, dry humping my legs, not letting me go anywhere or do anything to stop this madness!
Mr. Tall: So stop struggling.
Nickleman: What? I can’t! I need to get to those people, I need to stop the demons from burning my company to the ground!
Mr. Tall: So stop struggling: just relax, and let the spirits guide you to your next steps.
Nickleman: I can’t, I need t-
Mr. Tall: Relax, Mr. Penny Man…..
Mr. Tall places a calming hand on The Nickleman’s shoulder, helping him breathe in and out slowly.
Mr. Tall: Good, good, now follow the spirits. What are they showing you?
Nickleman: They’re showing me a path forward, through the flames….towards a locked chest. But they’re showing me where the key is!
Mr. Tall: Where is they key?
Nickleman: It’s…it’s…inside Plethora? Wait NO! It’s THROUGH Plethora! The spirits are telling me that my special reward requires me to go through Plethora….
Mr. Tall: Use the key to open the chest. What’s in the chest?
Nickleman: It’s the OCW world championship belt, and when I pick it up the flames vanish! The people are all coming back, shouting my name! Cheering me as their champion! I know what I need to do!
Mr. Tall: What are the spirits telling you?
Nickleman: The spirits are telling me that I’m almost there! They’re telling me I can stop the chaos and turn this ship around, but I can’t let up and I can’t relent! I need to give that Big fucking Bitchford every fucking thing I have, because over his dead body lays my special reward: and after I earn that special reward, there will be no one who can tell me I don’t deserve a shot at the gold! Synn and Plethora would be happy to go down with the ship as the last two standing, but I won’t let them ruin everything we’ve all worked so hard to build! I’m going to bring the battle to these demons, and I’m going to skin their sorry hides for all the OCW fans to see!
Mr: Tall: How are you going to do it, great white man? Listen to the spirits!
Nickleman: I’m going to strike hard, strike fast, and strike without mercy! Plethora is a foul creature, a murderer who seems to be storing half his victims inside his protruding abdomen. I’m going to slice him open from the gullet to the testes, and free all the innocent victims trapped inside that fat fuck’s stomach! He’s an evil creature of the highest order, and he deserves no quarter! I’ve beaten the Bitchford once before, but this time, I’m going to beat him half to death to get that special reward! His life means nothing compared to the future of our entire company, and his very name will mean nothing forevermore once I’m finally done with him. I’m going to make an example out of this demon, one DEVIL HOOK DROP at a time!
He’s big, mean, and nasty: but he only fights for himself. That’s why can’t win: because a real hero fights for more than himself. A true champion fights for the people, and that’s exactly what I plan to do at Access Denied 2!
The scene fades to black as The Nickleman opens his eyes, anxiously awaiting the chance to write his destiny in the blood of The Big Bifford.
A red hummer limo speeds past the camera, racing along a rural stretch of highway with no one else in sight. Longtime viewers of BOB programming would immediately recognize the stretch hummer as the ‘Bastard’s Limousine’, but most people probably just see a really fancy car going really fast. The scene pauses for a brief second, allowing us to zoom in and catch a glimpse of the driver’s face through the window.
It’s the one and only Nickleman!
He’s hunched over the steering wheel like a madman with a twisted look glued to his face. While the scene is still paused a BOB-branded speedometer pops up briefly in the bottom corner of the screen reading ‘69’.
Nice!
VVVVVVRRRRRRRRRRRRRRROOOOOOOOOOOOOOOMMMMMM
The camera zooms out and the scene flashes back to life as The Nickleman presses the pedal to the metal. The Bastard starts burning the rubber off the tires as he pushes the Bastard’s limo along the crumbling infrastructure of America’s heartland. Bits and pieces of asphalt fly off into the ditch as the wheels of the heavy-duty limo rip across the rural road.
The camera cuts to a close-up shot inside the limousine, positioned from the perspective of the passenger seat. We see The Nickleman driving recklessly with bloodshot eyes and no seatbelt, furiously guzzling down a can of code red mountain dew. His body twitches slightly every few seconds, and the tremendous bags under his eyes show The Nickleman’s exhaustion.
Yet still The Nickleman presses on relentlessly, rocking his head back and forth as the limo’s radio blasts his own entrance music on loop. The Nickleman makes little drumsticks with his fingers, playing them on the steering wheel when the drum solo begins. He turns to face the camera with a big toothy smile…he hasn’t looked this happy in a while!
Nickleman: Bobby Bourbon and Thunder Knuckles are going to love this song, they just have to listen to it enough!
The Nickleman turns his head back while still driving, hollering to the back of the limo.
Nickleman: HEY BOYS! How you liking these sick jams?! They getting you pumped up to slay some demons or what?!
The silence echoes for what seems like eternity. The Nickleman scratches his head before a sudden realization kicks in.
Nickleman: Oh right…the divider is up! I forgot why I put that up….
The camera turns around to the back of the limo and, sure enough, the barrier is still up : but not for long. Within a few seconds The Nickleman must’ve pressed the button, because the barrier slowly starts pulling itself down.
Nickleman: So, like I was saying, how are you Bastards liking these groovy tune-’
The Nickleman immediately falls silent once the barricade is removed. We see two people sitting in the backseat, only it’s not Bobby and TK. It’s two school-aged children, one girl and one boy. The girl looks to be just a couple years older, and if her crossed arms are any indication, she’s already fed up with this field trip gone wrong.
Nickleman: Shit….right…..this was why. I forg-
Emily: Let me guess, dad: you FORGOT! Maybe if you turned down this terrible music you could focus on us!
Tyler: Again?! You forgot that we existed AGAIN?! Daaaaaad, you’re supposed to love us!
The Nickleman rushes to cut off the music as he fumbles through his mandatory non-apology.
Nickleman: Emily…Tyler….of course I love you! And I didn’t forget you existed, I just forgot you were here! I’m so used to driving Them No Good Bastards around in this thing, you know it’s not my fault! Usually your mom has custody of you anyways…ever since that night she fell down the stairs seven times…..and ran into a couple doors….
The Nickleman visibly cringes as he remembers all the horror he put his ex-wife through. He can’t quite shake the guilt- nor should he.
Emily: So why can’t she just take us again?
The Nickleman’s remorse quickly turns to a flash of anger.
Nickleman: Because your mother is a whore who’s on a vacation with her fuckbuddy Pedro! Fucking bitch! So she dumped you on my doorstep on this, one of the most important weeks of my life! Real piece of work she is. Didn’t even have the decency to wait until AFTER my ayahuasca training….that bitch.
The children become uncomfortable and quickly look away.
Tyler: I liked you better when you weren’t around….
Charles Nichols sighs softly as he slows the limousine down and brings it to a complete stop along the side of the road. The Nickleman flicks off the engine as he turns on the flashing hazard lights. He turns back to his children and places his hand on the space where the divider would usually be. He lets out one long, dreary sigh before laying into his apology.
Nickleman: I’m sorry for my outburst…I know I shouldn’t talk about your mother like that, especially not in front of you- and I’m sorry I haven’t been the most present father. I’ve just been dealing with a lot of stress at work lately and I can’t get it off my mind. It’s really dragging me down and wearing me out. For some reason it’s taking up all of my energy, all of my focus, all of my passion. I can’t relax, no matter what I do or what I take. It’s always there, at the back of my mind, gnawing at me: pressing me into action, calling my name, a destiny just waiting to be written in the blood of my enemies….but for some reason, the people at the very top of the pyramid just won’t let me write it.
The Nickleman shakes his head softly before turning away from his spawn and looking through the windshield with the gaze of a defeated man. He speaks with an uncharacteristic softness to his voice.
Nickleman: But you kids wouldn’t understand anything about that….I guess these burdens are mine to hold alone.
Tyler and Emily look back to their downtrodden father with a shared look of pain. Emily bites her lip and leans away, unsure of what she can say: but her younger brother leans forward, tapping The Nickleman on the shoulder.
Tyler: Well….we can try to understand if you tell us. But things can only get better if you talk about them! That’s what my teacher always says, and I love Mrs. Grenier!
Tyler flashes a bright and cheery smile at his father, and it seems to do the trick. A slight twitch of The Nickleman’s lips are all he shows, but on the inside, he’s feeling true joy.
Nickleman: Well, I suppose I can tell you kids all about it while we finish our drive….I think I’d like that…but who the fuck is Mrs. Grenier?
Emily: Tyler’s teacher……but you’d know that if you ever went to our parent teacher conferences.
The Nickleman shakes his head in confusion before twisting the keys in the ignition. The hummer comes roaring back to life, scaring some nearby fowl into flight. The Nickleman unnecessarily adjusts his rearview mirror before pushing the pedal and pulling the stretch limo back onto the crumbling highway at much more moderate speeds.
Tyler: So tell us dad, what’s happening at work?
The Nickleman inhales sharply, immediately tensing up as he thinks about the ongoing shenanigans in OCW. He grips the steering wheel even tighter when he starts to talk.
Nickleman: I’ve really got my back against the wall now, kiddos. All my friends are gone so it’s up to me and me alone to stop the demons from taking complete control of Online Wrestling. I’m the big star the company needs to get the viewers back and increase their prestige. I can put OCW on my back and drag it out of the depths, but the damn idiots in charge of the place don’t trust me enough to give me the chance! The company is burning all around me while the demons dance in the flames, and I’m the only one who can stop them!
The Nickleman sighs softly as he lets it all out. The kids look between each other nervously, especially at every mention of the word ‘demons’. Yet still, The Nickleman looks to be more at peace as he shares his worries about the world.
Nickleman: It’s a lot of pressure for one man to take on his own….but I’m trying to handle it the best I can, because that’s what the OCW fans deserve….you know kids we don’t get the chance to talk much anymore….or ever, really. That was nice to get all that stuff off my chest. We should chat more often, the three of us amigos.
That’s when Emily leans forward.
Emily: I like talking to you, dad…but why do you always have to bring weird people like him around?
Emily points directly to the camera, or rather, to the man who’s holding it steady in the passenger seat.
Nickleman: What, you mean ol’ Dirt Nasty Gregg? He’s not weird, he just smells like that!
Greg: I wish you’d stop calling me that….and that smell is definitely your B.O., not mine!
The Nickleman turns to directly face the camera, or rather, the man behind the camera
Nickleman: Well that’s your name, isn’t it?
Greg: It’s just ‘Greg’, actually…
The Nickleman’s face twists and contorts into an unnatural shape. He cocks his head to the side, as if he can’t believe what was just said.
Nickleman: Greg? Just Greg? Is that even a name?
The Nickleman squints hard at the camera man, but before Greg can respond The Nickleman waves away the entire notion.
Nickleman: Ahhh forget it Dirt Nasty, it doesn’t really matter.
The Nickleman turns back to his daughter, Emily, who’s sitting in the rearseat of the limousine with her arms still crossed.
Nickleman: What’s really important, kids, is that ol’ Bitchy Greg here uses that flashy camera of his to capture everything I do in high def motion picture. I’m one of the biggest stars in the digital world of Online Wrestling, and everything I do is worth a thousand bucks to my biggest fans. Ol’ Shitdick Greg is here to make sure no good moment goes to waste.
Emily: Ugh…you always care so much about the ‘fans’, what about us and what we want? We don’t want weirdos with cameras always hanging out with us.
Nickleman: Well, Emily….
Emily crosses her arms as she makes contact with her father in the rear view mirror.
Emily: And where the heck are we even going, anyways? It better not suck!
Nickleman: We’re going to the only place I can go to prepare in a time like this, with so many demons to slay and so little time to do it. The ancient ayahuasca training grounds.
Emily throws her hands up in a clear sign of frustration.
Emily: What does eyewhoswastika even mean?! You’re always so weird and cryptic!
Charles shakes his head at his daughter in the rear view mirror.
Nickleman: It’s not cryptic or weird! Ayahuasca is an ancient warrior’s tradition, it’s how they used to prepare for major battles befor-
Tyler: DAAAAAD!
The Nickleman turns his attention to his son.
Nickleman: What, Tyler?
The young boy leans forward while tucking his hands in between his legs.
Tyler; I have to pee, like reaaallly bad!
The Nickleman can’t help but laugh, even as his daughter pouts over in the corner.
Nickleman: We’ll stop at the next gas station, and you can go there. Plus, we can all get beef jerky sticks and more pop! How’s that sound kids, okay?
Tyler: YES!
Emily: Whatever….
Emily leans back and rolls her eyes, annoyed with both her father and her overstimulated brother. The young boy is rocking back and forth in excitement, holding his bladder the best he can.
Tyler: But we need to hurry!
Nickleman: Roger that!
The Nickleman flips his theme music back on as he presses the pedal to the metal. The camera cuts to an exterior shot of the Bastard’s limo as the hummer rips across the rural road, racing towards the nearest gas station as we fade to black.
6 HOURS LATER
We hear four car doors slamming shut before the camera comes back to life. We open with a shot of a large tepee made of buffalo hide set against a cloudy midnight sky. The only light to guide you is the small campfire in front of the teepee: there are no stars in sight, that is until The Nickleman steps in front of the camera. Trailing closely behind the last ever Savage Champion are his two little ducklings, his tired children.
Emily: Where are we? I’m tired!
Nickleman: We’re finally here, Emily, at the ‘ayahuasca training grounds’ nestled deep within the mountains of New Mexico.
Two native american men come walking out of the teepee dressed out in traditional regalia, one tall and one very very short. Almost midget levels of short: but not quite.
Tall: Great white man! You’ve made it.
Short. Hmmph. Much later than he said. And with children.
Tall: But did you bring payment?
Nickleman: Of course I did! I take my training very seriously, you know!
The Nickleman pulls out a ludicrously large sum of money from his pants pocket, all in freshly folded 100 dollar bills.
Nickleman: This will be enough, right? It’s my entire signing bonus for Access Denied 2! I heard this is what Aaron Rodgers did, so I figure if it’s good enough for him it should be good enough for me!
The two native americans light up immediately when they see just how much money this drug-addicted athlete has brought to them.
Tall: Absolutely, sir! You giving us all this money will definitely help you get in good with the great sky eagle!
Nickleman: Perfect, I need as much help as I can get now that everyone else in BOB has lost their spines!
The Nickleman hands over the money in the dark of the night. The fire crackling in the distance casts a long shadow over the deal.
Tall: Tonko, take this great man’s children to the sleeping cabin! Their father must begin his preparations.
Tonko: At once, Mr. Tall!
Tonko walks forward to usher the children away, but they look hesitant.
Nickleman: It’s ok, kids! He won’t molest you: I’m pretty sure all these Indian guys are eunuchs!
The natives look between each other with a shared look of offense, but neither one says anything because the money is just too good. Eventually Tyler and Emily are ushered off screen, and that’s when Mr. Tall starts leading The Nickleman into the buffalo hide teepee.
Mr. Tall: You are about to imbibe in one of our tribe’s great traditions. The spirits will be with, within, and around you: be prepared to accept what they have to say, but do not anticipate that all their words to you will be kind. You are about to take a trip into the otherside of our existence, where the true faces of men come out and the masks come off. Are you ready to find out who you truly are beneath that skin, great white man?
Nickleman: Born ready.
The tall native man nods and grunts as he enters into the completely dark teepee with The Nickleman.
Mr: Tall: Sit down here.
Mr. Tall gestures for The Nickleman to sit down in the center of the floor. The native man reaches into his trousers and pulls out a vial containing a clear liquid. He squeezes the contens of the vial under The Nickleman’s tongue.
Mr. Tall: The effects will take effect quickly, so be prepared!
Nickleman: How fast are we talking? And when did that juggling monkey get in here with us?
Mr Tall: You’re already seeing the juggling monkey? Good, good! That means the ayahuasca is working! Keep your eyes closed, and tell me what else you see!
Nickleman: I just see that dang monkey, he’s so cute!
Mr. Tall: Look around, great white man! What do you see?
Nickleman: I see, I see….
As The Nickleman starts looking around the pitch black teepee, the tone of his voice slowly changes. Even though the crackling fire outside the tent provides just enough light inside the tent for us to see that it’s empty, The Nickleman seems to be seeing something different. Mr. Tall leans forward inquisitively, encouraging Charles to tell us everything the spirits tell him.
Mr. Tall: What are you seeing?
Nickleman: A fire raging through my home, burning up everything I love! And those demons…those damned demons are laughing about it! They don’t care that our world is burning, they just want to be the only ones left standing in the ashes! All they care about is recapturing their old glory, with the shadow of their former selves being cast across the land! Those vile demons don’t care about this company, don’t care about our fans…they only care about themselves.
Mr: Tall: These demons, do they have faces?
Nickleman: One does, the other one wears a hooded cloak……I’ve seen these faces before. It’s SYNN and PLETHORA! They’re burning OCW to the ground with their selfishness! They don’t care about the company like I do, they only care about glorifying themselves!
Mr. Tall: And what do you hear?
Nickleman: I hear the people in the flames, burning alive! They’re the OCW fans! They’re screaming my name, begging for help! But I can’t help them!
Mr. Tall: Why not?
Nickleman: The Straders won’t let me! They’re holding me back, stopping me from saving the world! The living one and the dead one both, dry humping my legs, not letting me go anywhere or do anything to stop this madness!
Mr. Tall: So stop struggling.
Nickleman: What? I can’t! I need to get to those people, I need to stop the demons from burning my company to the ground!
Mr. Tall: So stop struggling: just relax, and let the spirits guide you to your next steps.
Nickleman: I can’t, I need t-
Mr. Tall: Relax, Mr. Penny Man…..
Mr. Tall places a calming hand on The Nickleman’s shoulder, helping him breathe in and out slowly.
Mr. Tall: Good, good, now follow the spirits. What are they showing you?
Nickleman: They’re showing me a path forward, through the flames….towards a locked chest. But they’re showing me where the key is!
Mr. Tall: Where is they key?
Nickleman: It’s…it’s…inside Plethora? Wait NO! It’s THROUGH Plethora! The spirits are telling me that my special reward requires me to go through Plethora….
Mr. Tall: Use the key to open the chest. What’s in the chest?
Nickleman: It’s the OCW world championship belt, and when I pick it up the flames vanish! The people are all coming back, shouting my name! Cheering me as their champion! I know what I need to do!
Mr. Tall: What are the spirits telling you?
Nickleman: The spirits are telling me that I’m almost there! They’re telling me I can stop the chaos and turn this ship around, but I can’t let up and I can’t relent! I need to give that Big fucking Bitchford every fucking thing I have, because over his dead body lays my special reward: and after I earn that special reward, there will be no one who can tell me I don’t deserve a shot at the gold! Synn and Plethora would be happy to go down with the ship as the last two standing, but I won’t let them ruin everything we’ve all worked so hard to build! I’m going to bring the battle to these demons, and I’m going to skin their sorry hides for all the OCW fans to see!
Mr: Tall: How are you going to do it, great white man? Listen to the spirits!
Nickleman: I’m going to strike hard, strike fast, and strike without mercy! Plethora is a foul creature, a murderer who seems to be storing half his victims inside his protruding abdomen. I’m going to slice him open from the gullet to the testes, and free all the innocent victims trapped inside that fat fuck’s stomach! He’s an evil creature of the highest order, and he deserves no quarter! I’ve beaten the Bitchford once before, but this time, I’m going to beat him half to death to get that special reward! His life means nothing compared to the future of our entire company, and his very name will mean nothing forevermore once I’m finally done with him. I’m going to make an example out of this demon, one DEVIL HOOK DROP at a time!
He’s big, mean, and nasty: but he only fights for himself. That’s why can’t win: because a real hero fights for more than himself. A true champion fights for the people, and that’s exactly what I plan to do at Access Denied 2!
The scene fades to black as The Nickleman opens his eyes, anxiously awaiting the chance to write his destiny in the blood of The Big Bifford.
