"And that prophet, or that dreamer of dreams, shall be put to death; because he hath spoken to turn you away from the LORD your God..." (Deuteronomy 13: 5)
Senester is seen walking down the halls of a Children’s Hospital. His dark attire very vivid amongst the brightly decorated and colored walls.
(Senester): Families, that’s what’s important in your mortal lives…isn’t it Parker? You remember our work with the Red Cross don’t you? Dark Horse research is the premier research and development corporation in the world. Our work changes this world, but this is where some children will spend their Christmas. Some will never leave at all. But there is one small boy…a tiny spirit… tonight I will save his soul. Tonight I christen him “cherub.”
Senester comes to a room in the children’s ward and can hear inside two boys talking.
(Senester): Such innocence, so clear and untainted is his conscience it is a small wonder how he came into the word of God. How one so little, so free of the larger troubles of this world could rise above even the legendary Butch Parker in true faith. He is worthy of this gift, this blessing I am to bestow.
Senester stands next to the door now listening inside as the boys talk.
(Young Kenny): In honor of Lord Senester and Christmas I’m going to read a story so just sit back and listen…okay?
(Little David): Okay.
(Young Kenny): Okay….I’m gonna start now.
Kenny sits up in his hospital bed, and opens his book with excitement and begins to read.
Twas the night before Christmas, when all through HWA, not a creature was stirring, through the arena all day. The titles were hung by the ceiling with care, in hopes that great wrestlers soon would be there.
The children were nestled all snug in their seats, while visions of ppv’s brought them to their feet. And mamma in her t-shirt, and dad his cap, had paid a fortune for tickets with HWA’s new App.
When out on the stage there arose such a clatter, fans sprang from their seats to see what was the matter. Away to the aisles they flew like a flash, pushing and shoving as pyro rained down like ash.
From the ring to the rafters they filled every row, and spotlights gave the gleam of mid-day to objects below. When what to their wondering eyes should appear, but ladders and chairs, and eight wrestlers all in their gear.
With a great God that glowed a grand luster, I knew in a moment it must be Lord Senester.
More rapid than eagles his coursers they came, and spoke of his will, and called them by name.
"Now Parker! now, Bridges! now, Stu-E and Chuckles! On, Antonio! On, Deas! on, Mercury and Styles! To the top of the Turnbuckle! to the top of the ladder! Now fight away! Fight away! Fight away all!"
Dry the mat was where sweat would soon fly, when they meet each other’s obstacles, they’d mount to the sky. So up the stairs the coursers they flew, with the ring full of mayhem, and Senester too.
And then, in a thunder, I heard on the mat, the stomping of feet, squashing each other flat. As they drew in their head, and was turning around, down the ropes Senester came with a bound.
He was dressed in black and purple, from his head to his foot, and his skin was all tainted with blood and ring soot. A bundle of bodies he had flung on his back, and he looked like a peddler, just opening his pack.
His eyes how they twinkled, his dimples how merry! His cheeks were like roses, his nose like a cherry. The grin on his mouth was drawn up like a bow, bearing his teeth as white as the snow.
A knee to the head he held tight in his grip, and the blood from their nose, like a faucet did drip. He had a broad face and a tight chiseled body, that flexed when he moved, and I said “Good Golly!”
He was a sight of perfection, a right holy God, and I smiled when he saw me, I bowed with a nod. A wink of his eye and a twist of his head, soon gave them to know his wrath they would dread.
He spoke not a word, but went straight to his work, and filled the whole ring, then turned with a jerk. And laying his finger aside of his nose, and giving a nod, up the ladder he rose. He sprang into action, to give some a beating, and down they went in a horrible meeting. But I heard him exclaim, ‘ere he rose out of sight, "This is my ring, no one beats me in a fight!"
(Young Kenny): The End!
(Little David): That’s stupid, that’s not even a Christmas story; it has nothing to do with Santa.
(Young Kenny): It is a Christmas story, Lord Senester gives us all the gifts we need. Santa Claus isn’t even real.
(Little David): Yes he is, you take that back Kenny. Senester isn’t real then.
(Young Kenny): Yes he is, he’s God.
(Little David): No he’s not.
(Young Kenny): Yes he is David.
(Little David): No he’s not. He’s a phony, and he can’t wrestle. Butch is gonna kick his butt, and Buff, and Deas, and Stu-E too.
(Young Kenny): No they won’t.
(Little David): My brother said so, and he knows because he’s in high school. You don’t even have a brother Kenny.
(Young Kenny): So…..I don’t want to hear your blapsfumy.
(Little David): What’s that word “Bu-lap-somie”
(Young Kenny): It’s when you say something bad about God and it’s not true, and then he makes you pay for it.
(Little David): I didn’t say anything bad about God.
(Young Kenny): Yes you did, and I’m gonna tell. I’m gonna tell, and you’re gonna get a whoopin’ or something.
(Little David): It’s my turn now. I’m going to read the Santa Claus story, with Rudolph.
(Young Kenny): No, I don’t want to read that story.
(Little David): That’s not fair, I listened to yours and it wasn’t even a Christmas story.
The boys argue for a few moments before tiring themselves out and call it quits. No sooner than their little heads hit the pillow they are fast asleep. Senester slips into the room and watches them, standing over Kenny. He brushes a small tendril of his hair back pulls a syringe from his pocket. He injects a purple liquid into his IV and pats him on the head before
(Senester): Thou art the anointed cherub that covereth; and I have set thee so: thou wast upon the holy mountain of God; thou hast walked up and down in the midst of the stones of fire.
Senester smiles and exits the room.
(Senester): Soon Butch Parker a child of your own you shall welcome into this world. He or she shall be called an angel of your own, but such is not so. I have bestowed no such title unto your seed. The sins of the father must be punished, or absolved from loyal service which you have denied yourself. At Havoc, I’m going to show you that being a great hero isn’t without its consequences.
The Next Morning
The hallway in the children’s ward is filled with echoing cries. A nurse runs to the room to find Young David in absolute hysterics.
(Nurse): David…David…calm down…what’s wrong!
(Little David): He’s dead…Kenny’s dead…
(Nurse): Oh honey No….No….Kenny’s not dead sweetheart. Kenny is fine, better than fine. Kenny was released this morning. It’s a miracle…he’s all better.
David still with tears down his face, sniffles them back and looks at her.
(Little David): Why didn’t he tell me then? You’re lying….you’re lying because you don’t want me to feel bad. You took him out of the room so I wouldn’t see his body.
(Nurse): David stop…please. Look….Kenny left this for you see, he wrote it himself.
The nurse hands him a package and he slowly opens it up. It’s the book Kenny read last night with a note written in crayon that reads.
“See…I told you so David”
David’s eyes widen with surprise and the nurse recognizing that he’s okay slowly leaves him alone. David opens the book and begins to read aloud.
(Little David): Twas the night before Christmas, when all through HWA….
The scene fades to black.
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