“I don’t EVER go looking for Charlie Nickles, but Charlie Nickles ALWAYS goes lookin’ for me!” – James Shark




The eve of Rebellion is upon us.

Thousands of frenzied fans pour into Fenway Park, eager for the pain and misery to commence. They pack themselves into the ballpark like sardines crammed into a can. Every seat in the house is filled, but that’s not all: every staircase, every aisle, every barrier is also jam packed with fans!

The camera starts with an overhead shot of the venue, revealing the incredible scope of this Rebellion’s reach. After a few seconds of grandiose cinematography, the camera zips through Fenway’s interior, working its way deeper into the park’s innards. Countless fans are seen standing in line to buy “Shark vs Nickles” merchandise, and huge banners highlighting the main event trilogy have been hung all over.

The tension in the crowd is palpable, it’s clear that everyone has chosen a side. At one point we see a group of self-described “Nicklemen” chasing after an old man in a James Shark t-shirt. They tackle him to the ground and begin stomping him out, just as the camera zooms past! As we stroll deeper into the park, we see fights breaking out all over Fenway! The scene descends into complete chaos until we finally arrive at the source of it all: the champion’s locker room.

Nestled deep within the guts of Fenway Park, the camera rests on a shot of a decrepit door. Excited utterances emanate from the other side, but a piece of duct-tape plastered over the paint-peeled wood assures you that this is the ‘Champion’s Locker’.

So that means James Shark should be behind this door, right? Unless…

“Huh, well that’s weird.”

A bald-headed man walks into the scene with an ill-fitting “Nickleman’s #1 Fan” t-shirt squeezing tightly against his body. Long-time XWF fans would immediately recognize this icon as Jim Jimson, but you uncultured swine see just another pudgy fan with a backstage pass.

“I thought this was supposed to be Charlie’s locker room?”

Jim shrugs nonchalantly before turning the handle and pushing the door open.

“Yo Chuck! I made it to Bah-Stin just in time for your match against the shark! Thank God it’s not a dolphin, right?”

As Jim crosses the threshold and steps into Charlie’s domain, he spots The Nickleman hunched over a table. Charlie jumps to his feet in surprise, turning around and rubbing his nose as he locks eyes with his old friend. On the table behind Charlie, we see a rolled up one-dollar bill resting atop the XWF Universal Championship.

“Well god damn, Jim! It’s great to FUCKING see ya! How the hell have ya’ been?!”

“Truthfully, I’ve been a bit overwhelmed. It’s hard looking after your family while you’re on tour. But it’s just little things, like taking Tyler and Emily to school everyday, and helping Connie out around the house, and I’ve actually had to get a part-time job selling ice to eskimos to help with the bills, since you haven’t been paying child support…

But heck, what else are former tag-team partners for?!”

Charlie looks at Jim with a dumbfounded, glazed-over expression.

“Honestly Jim, I don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about…but damn am I glad to see you here! It’s total pandemonium out there, ain’t it?”

“It’s like a mosh pit in Fenway Park, Chuck!”

A sinister grin curls across The Nickleman’s bearded lips.

“Good! That’s what it’s SUPPOSED to be like, on the eve of a manslaughter. They all know that tonight is the commencement of my OFFICIAL coronation- and thank the Bastardly Father that they are acting in accordance. Tens of thousands of crazed lunatics have all converged here, because they know that tonight- EVERYTHING is on the line!

Two men will enter that ring, but only one man will leave.

So let the blood spill, and let the innocent cry: because tonight…tonight is the start of an era.”

The Nickleman spews his monologue with a crazed look in his eye, but Jim’s eye can’t help but wander. As Charlie raves, Jim notices an empty baggie on the table. Charlie notices Jim noticing, and acts quickly to place both the baggie and the rolled-up dollar bill in his pocket.

“Charlie, are you sure you’re doing okay? I thought you were supposed to be so-”

The Nickleman quickly chimes in, cutting Jimson off mid-sentence.

“So much of a pussy, that I wouldn’t come back to the XWF after I failed in the Ides of March? So much of a broken-down has-been, that I’d never headline a Premium Live Event again?

Honestly, Jim- I can’t blame you.

I thought the exact same thing, right after Aurora put me down for the count. When I left the ring that night, I thought about retiring from this business, once and for all. I thought about leaving my size twelve boots in the ring for good.

But then, I finally climbed Geppetto’s ladder. And now?

Now, I know that this is my destiny!”

As Charlie gives in to his mania, Jimson takes a figurative step back as he tries to refocus the conversation on his best friend’s well-being.

“I was going to say sober…I thought you had your six-month chip? You said you left the Brotherhood to get sober, and now you’re walking around preaching the word of the Bastardly Father! It’s just a little odd.”

The Nickleman sneers as he turns away from Jimson.

“If sobriety is a mental state of clarity and focus, then Jimmy, I promise you I’m as sober as I’ve ever been!”

“That’s not what sobriety is. Please tell me you got your six-month chip…”

Jimson raises a skeptical, almost pleading eyebrow towards Nickles.

“Yeah, I got my six-month chip.”

“Oh, thank the Bastardly Father!”

Jim raises his hands in adulation of the miracle, but his relief is short-lived.

“But I left that shit over the pond! I don’t need it anymore, Jim, can’t you see? I’m not the same weak and impulsive man that I used to be. I used to fight against Geppetto’s strings every day, but now, I’ve realized that his invisible hand was simply guiding me to the top!”

Charlie walks back towards the table and grabs HIS championship belt, throwing it over his shoulder with pride.

“Wait, waddya’ mean you left it?! Charlie, you have to be joking. You need to be sober tonight! They’re making you fight a shark, and then after that, you have to climb a 20 foot ladder!”

Charlie walks over to the mirror, admiring the gleam of his belt’s reflection. As Charlie stares into the glass, he sees each and every step he’s taken on his climb back to the top. His eyes sparkle with frenzied excitement as he recalls the very first step he took, just after his stunning defeat in the Ides of March.

“I’ve already climbed the ladder that matters most, Jim- and that first rung was acceptance…of who I am, and the things I can not change…”

THUNK!

The door to Charlie’s locker room slams shut with such righteous fury that it literally flies off the hinges, at least in part. The camera is positioned in the hallway, peering through the doorframe’s splintered gap as The Nickleman storms into his locker room. Clearly fuming and distraught, Charlie takes his frustrations out on everything he can find.

“AWH, FUCK! YOU BLOODY LOSER!”

Charlie berates himself as he collapses against the wall, his chest heaving up and down in rhythm with his ragged gasps. Charlie slides down the wall like the tears slide down his cheek, dripping with an agonized pain all his own.

“You were supposed to come back for me! I saw it in the flames!”

She was supposed to be here for him, she was supposed to be his proverbial ‘ace in the hole’!

But she was gone, like a ghost in the wind…

“WHERE ARE YOU, ROBYN?!”

Tears stream down Charlie’s defeated face as his blood begins to stream out from his fresh wounds. The Nickleman heaves and howls, but nothing he can cry will bring her back.

Instead, his cries of pain summoned something else entirely. A creature entirely familiar yet perplexingly alien to him at the same time. A dark parasite, born from his own sinful consumption, comes back to haunt him when he’s at his lowest.

“Oh, poor Charlie. When will you realize that you need me far more than I will ever need you?”

As we peer into Charlie’s locker room through the splintered gap in the doorframe, we see him tilt his head back and look in the direction of something blocked from the camera’s view.

“Come to taunt me again, ya sick fuck?! It won’t work. I just got my six-month chip, so you should know better than to waste your time!”

“I’m not here to make a mockery of you, Charlie. I never was. I just want to help you, but only if you’ll let me.”

The Nickleman lifts a teary, yet inquisitive eye towards the unseen voice. Charlie had been resisting his dark urge for months, with the memory of his tarnished daughter driving him on a path that consumed him more than mere addiction ever could…but where did that path lead? As far as Charlie could tell, it led to the blood-stained floor of his own locker room.

Perhaps, Charlie thought, he should hear this offer out…

“You keep trying to scrub the filth from your soul like it's something you picked up by accident. But Charlie, you were born with blood under your nails. The lies, the violence, the hunger: it’s the core of who you are. You think this sickness is a curse? No, no… it’s a crown. Not everyone’s meant to be clean, Charlie. You were invincible when you embraced the beast. You made gods bleed when the needle kissed your skin and the world blurred just enough to make sense…and now look at you.”

As we peer through the splintered door, we see dark shadows coalescing on the wall above Charlie. As the unseen voice carries on, the shadows slither towards The Nickleman like snakes in the grass.

“You were never sharper than when I was in your veins, Charlie. Every punch, every word was like glass cutting silk. Accept it, Charlie. The rage. The rot. The ruin. Let it in. Let me in. Because the only way to climb back to the top… is by sinking deeper than they ever dared.”

The thin, lengthy shadows on the wall crawl towards Charlie until they reach the shadow of his back. Then, they open their dark jaws and latch onto him. Charlie grimaces in pain as the shadows grab a hold of him, forcing him to rise to a standing position- like a puppet on a string.

“Now come, child: let me wipe your nose.”

As we peer through the splintered door, we see the dark strings dragging Charlie’s shadow across the locker room and out of our sight. Then, just beyond the frame, we hear a brutal inhalation that slices through the silence: like someone snorting sin straight into their skull.

You can’t be a father and a champion- that’s a lesson I had to learn the hard way. 

But I already told you this, James…

So why the hell did you think I’d let you play LOVERBOY, when you already had the most beautiful prize of them all?

You had the entire UNIVERSE at your fingertips, yet still, you couldn’t pull your head out of Summer’s ass in time to see me coming!

Which begs the question: what matters more to you, James? This belt…or that bitch?

Your reign at the top has been downright embarrassing. Maybe you don’t feel ashamed, but the rest of us do. You’ve wasted your run at the top. Instead of solidifying your legacy, you’ve been ducking Warfare and chasing bimbos.

Not even chasing.

SIMPING.

For a bitch who still ain’t fucked ya!

That’s why I did what I did on Anarchy, James. You forced my hand. It’s YOUR fault I attacked her! I had to get through to you, one way or the other. I had to show you, to make you understand! I had to write my message in her blood, for you to finally see…

That you can’t love a belt and a bitch at the same time!

God damn it James, you need to get a fucking grip before you fall off entirely! This was supposed to be our RUBBER MATCH, the dramatic end to the Shark – Nickles feud that’s rocked the XWF for months! But instead of promoting our match, you’ve been busy sitting in your little ‘cuck chair’ while Summer Page takes you for every penny you’re worth.

When I first called you out for this match, I thought that we could put on a showcase. I thought we would leave our mark on history in each other’s blood. My old bones don’t have much time left in this world, and I thought you could help me go out with a BANG!

But instead, I’ve just been banging my head against the wall on Warfare, week after week….calling out a champion who’s gone ghost. What’s the problem, James? Now that you won the big one you think you’re ‘too good’ for TV tapings? Did Summer’s shopping list keep you too busy?

Or maybe….maybe you were there all along on April 14th, that first show after your ‘big win’. Maybe you saw me come out to the ring, carrying a bullet with your name on it- and you knew your end was near. But you didn’t have the balls to face me! So you ran for the hills with that championship belt tucked between your legs, like the scared little bitch you are!

You ran into Yelena’s arms, trying to protect your reign: but on May Day, your ship was sinking one way or another. I made sure of it! While you were busy holding Summer’s purse, I was hoisting your belt AND this company upon my shoulders!

Truthfully, you don’t know how to be a champion in the XWF, James. That’s why your reigns never last.

All you know how to do is run…run your mouth about the very same men you run away from!

But come Rebellion, there will be nowhere left to run.

There will only be the climb!

As we fade back into a shot of the champion’s locker room, we see Jim standing behind Charlie with a look of shock. As Charlie continues staring at himself in the mirror, Jimson places his hands on his bald head and begins frantically pacing.

“You’re telling me you’ve been back on that shit since March?! Jesus, Charlie- no wonder you haven’t been answering any of my calls!”

The Nickleman turns around with a smirk plastered to his face.

“I’m telling you that Geppetto came back to me, even when SHE wouldn’t. Geppetto was there for me, when no one else was…and now, he’ll be with me always.”

“Who the hell is Geppetto?! Why do you keep talking about Geppetto! How high are you right now, Chucky? Be honest with me.”

The Nickleman chuckles dismissively as he cradles the championship belt close to his chest.

“Geppetto is the alpha and the omega: he’s the beginning and the end.”

“That’s Robert Main’s catchphrase!”

“Not anymore.”

Charlie smirks as he takes a step towards Jimson with the belt in tow.

“Now that I’m in charge, everything that -was-…is now his…is now mine. Can’t you see, Jimmy?”

“See what? How out of your mind you are? You’re supposed to have a ladder match tonight, but all you’re doing is climbing into an early grave!”

The Nickleman shakes his head with a sneer as he stares back at Jimson.

“I’m not worried about that ladder, or about that Shark. I’ve already climbed the most important ladder of all, and he helped me every step of the way…the first rung was about acceptance, of who I am and the things I can not change… but that was the easy one.

The next rung was the one I struggled with. I could never have climbed it without him.”

Jim looks at Charlie with a dumbfounded expression as The Nickleman launches into yet another parable.

“The second rung, was forgiveness…”

THUNK!

The door to Charlie’s rental car slammed shut with righteous fury. The loss to Aurora was still fresh on his mind, not even a day later. He hadn’t left England with the rest of the XWF roster…at least, not yet.
He had something, or rather, someone to take care of first.

The Nickleman paced back and forth in front of his car along the side of a seemingly random, yet eerily familiar highway. Just off in the distance a tattered tent stood tall, despite the strong gusts of wind. A soft light emanated from inside the tent, as a familiar presence loomed just off screen.

“Are you sure I have to do this? I just..don’t know how this will fix anything…she’s still be gone…”

“But your self-loathing will remain, until you learn to forgive yourself. It’s not your fault, Charlie…but someone has to pay.”

The Nickleman tickled his nose as he cleared his nostrils, turning back to address the unseen voice.

“But I don’t know if I can do this, man…”

“You HAVE to do this, Charlie, don’t you understand? Don’t you realize what they did to you, what they did to HER?”

The Nickleman looks just off-screen with a remorseful expression.

“But they didn’t kill her…”

“Those gypsies TRICKED you, Charlie! It’s THEIR fault you lost the tournament! You thought SHE would return to save you, but it was nothing but a ruse. They burned her body in front of you, reducing her corpse to ash!”

The Nickleman sniffled as a few tears strolled down his cheek.

“I didn’t mean for her to burn! I thought they would bring her back!”

“I know, Charlie…it’s not your fault. It’s THEIRS….but you must forgive yourself, for your naivety, for your foolishness- in the only way you know how.”

The Nickleman nodded his head up and down, fighting back the tears as he reached down towards his waistband.

“You’re right, you’re right…I HAVE to do this…for her.

For me.”

“You have to, Charlie. They left you no choice. You must forgive yourself for their transgressions…forgive yourself through the steel.”

Charlie’s shoulders hitch as his sob escapes containment. He drags a trembling hand across his face, smearing tears, snot and dirt into a single messy blur. His fingers find the cold steel at his waistband, and he pulls it free like it’s been waiting for him this whole time.

“You have to do it, Charlie. They left you no choice. You need to forgive yourself for their transgressions!”

As the wind picks up, the canvas of the distant tent flaps faintly, indifferently. The soft light still beams from inside the tent, just waiting to be extinguished for good. Charlie’s boots crunch over dead leaves and gravel as he stumbles forward, his sobs becoming choked breaths. He’s not walking toward revenge. He’s walking toward confession. Toward reckoning. Toward absolution and forgiveness.

As Charlie finally nears the tent, the screen cuts to black. We hear a loud ‘BANG!’ followed by a gut-wrenching scream. Then, we hear one final ‘BANG!’ before the gravity of the silence sets in. We fade to black with the sounds of a sobbing madman slowly quieting in the background.

Fear.

It’s that feeling you get when something dangerous is coming your way.

Is that what you’re feeling, James?

Is that why you made yourself so hard for me to find?

I get it, James: truly I do.

You have everything to lose. Not just the belt, but your family back at home. You have kids who miss you and a woman you love. You don’t need to risk your neck for this business, because you could go back to making movies if you wanted to! You have options, choices, connections: but me?

I have nothing. Not anymore.

All I have left is the climb.

You’re looking towards the future with hope in your eyes. You see Summer Page on your arm, and your kids back in your home. You see purpose, you see a reason for your tomorrow.

But all I see is the decades of destruction my career wrought. For me, there is no tomorrow.

There is only tonight.

When I climb that ladder, I’ll be looking down at my past mistakes, at my failures: at the bottomless pit I kept digging for years. And when I gaze down upon my own abyss, it will gaze back at me: with eyes like yours. Maybe I can’t be redeemed, James…but I sure as hell can drag you down with me!

Your pride will hang alongside your hide upon my mantle. Your belt will shine on my waist as your children grieve their now ever-absent father, forevermore. Your name will be forgotten, just another one checked off my list. Just another Lycana, another Caedus, another Granger left to rot!

I’m not scared of death, James- and I’m damned sure not scared of you. The only thing I’m scared of is being forgotten. All the wrong I’ve done, all the sacrifices I’ve made…I want them to be WORTH something! I want them to be remembered…

I want to be remembered for every departure. For every career ending injury. For every fan that got offended!

ALL OF IT!

They won’t remember your name, James: but the UNIVERSE will remember the games I play in your blood!

“Are you telling me you KILLED somebody after you lost to Aurora?!”

The Nickleman sneers at Jim with dismissive intent.

“I’m telling you that I forgave myself for what happened to Robyn.”

Jimson stood in Charlie’s locker room with his mouth agape, but The Nickleman paid no mind to Jim’s moral hang-ups.

“And I still remember the way her blood looked in the moonlight. Like a dark red oil, just leaking out. That’s when Geppetto told me I was finally free.”

Jimson stands quietly, the weight of Charlie’s words hanging between them like a noose.

"You always talk about this Geppetto like he’s a real man. Can I meet him? Shake his hand? Tell him what he did to you?"

Charlie reaches into his pocket and pulls out a small plastic bag. The contents catch the light like broken glass. He presses it into Jimson’s hand, folding his fingers around it before stepping back.

"You’ve already met him. You just didn’t know his name."

Jim opens his palm and stares into the shattered crystals.

"Geppetto ain’t a man. He’s a metaphor. A mask we put on the things we let control us. He’s every high I ever chased. Every lie I let stitch me back together. I spent years trying to break the strings. But every time I cut one, another one grew back, tied even tighter.”

Charlie looks past Jim, and through the doorway of his locker room: toward the ladder waiting for him in the ring.

"And each rung on that proverbial ladder? That’s a step I took through the darkness, guided by Geppetto’s invisible hand. The first was acceptance. The next was forgiveness.

But this last one? This final rung?"

Charlie taps the championship belt placed right above his heart.

"This one’s empowerment.

I let Geppetto carve me hollow, and now I’m filled with fire.

I’m not runnin’ from him anymore.

I AM him!"

With that, The Nickleman walked through the locker room door. Neither burdened nor broken, Charlie felt empowered: like a man standing at the base of his ladder, ready to claim every rung and rise above it all.

The ladder awaited him, and Charlie Nickles was ready for the climb.

Not in spite of his madness…

But because of it.