"And we took all his cities at that time, and utterly destroyed the men, and the women, and the little ones, of every city, we left none to remain." (Deuteronomy 2:34)
(Senester): I understand you’ve been making your rounds Michael. Reminiscing the past, visiting cemeteries. You should have called me, I would have joined you. Everyone knows how much I enjoy communing with the dead.
Senester chuckles deviously with a smile.
(Senester): What does it bring you to waste your time with these trivial events…redemption? Does it wash away the regret of your mortal failures? Do you have any idea what a fool you sound like, making futile amends with a festering corpse? Basher was no one, and he was nothing to this business but trash plucked from the streets of Chicago and tossed in a ring. He was a space filler, with a mediocre career at best, and here you are making promises to his memory as if they hold any more value than he ever did.
You really should be cautious, and heed my words. I told you history has a way of repeating itself. Now Basher’s son is in the ranks. Is there room in that crypt for two Michael, should Finn follow in his father’s footsteps? He has the body, but let us see if he has the brains and fortitude to distinguish between the righteous path and the word of God, or the ludicrous warnings of so-called “friends” and “mentors” such as yourself. He’s so young, so ambitious, so filled with the fevor one expects from someone trying to make a name for himself for all the reasons he has been misled to believe are right. Should I take him under my wind Michael? That wouldn’t bother you would it? Afterall…I am God. Who do you think he is going to trust, who do you think he is going to believe in…you…the useless man who failed his father, or I…the almighty that can give him the realization of his heroic dreams?
A fiendish grin crosses Senester’s face.
(Senester): You can shy away from the ordinary reporter, but you shall not and cannot deflect my inquiry. How is your family Michael? I must say MJ looked rather dapper in his little tuxedo when they accepted your Hall of Fame award last year, and Kate was simply ravishing in her ivory gown. MJ must be what, 4? 5? years old now, such a precious age don’t you think? I hope he becomes a better man than his father was. With the proper guidance of course that is possible, but the man known as Michael Dredge as we all know is prone to failure in the mentoring and guidance of others.
There is no shame in bowing to me Michael, and one way or the other I will bring you to them before me. You should be thanking me. Every word from your mouth should be a hymn, praise in my name. You were nothing when I found you, but like any man, with the proper time and pressure I can turn that filthy lump of coal into a diamond. I took you from blue jeans, stuffing your mouth with Copenhagen Snuff, feet abused with blisters and corns from toddling around in cowboy boots, fiddling around with old Mustangs. I took you from rodeo belt buckles to championship belts, from common clotheslines to complex submissions. I took you from these commonalities and refined you.
If you want to make a “positive change” here in HWA then take up one of your very own sayings. Look at that man in the mirror, the man you used to be in this business is gone Michael Dredge. He has nothing to offer anyone but false hope, built solely on the name of his legacy. You don’t want that man before me. The fans don’t want that man before me. This company, this industry does not want that man before me, and none need him and his empty promises. However, I know this man Michael Dredge. He is foolish, he is sanctimonious enough to believe he is doing what is right and will attempt to see it through. Try, and I will make Kate a true widow rather the one she has pretended to be the past two and half years. I will make MJ a bastard of a boy, fatherless, as he has unknowingly portrayed. My power is divine and uncompromising and mercy has forgetten the man named Michael Dredge. I will bring him, Eric Holder and those involved in this crusade against me and HWA to their knees. My will be done!
Senester sits with his hands folded and continues his deep thoughts as the scene fades to black.
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