"But I tell you, in this you are not right, for God is greater than any mortal. Why do you complain to him that he responds to no one’s words? For God does speak now one way, now another though no one perceives it." (Job 33:12-33)
It’s a cool night in the city, and two days removed from Blood, Sweat & Tears… Senester is back in Los Angeles, he’s laying on a customized massage table, after just finishing a massage and a skin therapy session. As the camera pans over him, we see that his skin is heavily bruised, the swelling in his face has subsided some but it definitely not back to normal. He can see out of his eye now, but it is still swollen and black. Dozens of marks on his body relay the absolute brutality of his match. He gets up and sits in a large lounge chair and an incredibly handsome guy brings him a drink on tray, Senester reaches up, grabbing his strawberry blond hair and pulls him in for a long deep kiss. He releases him, and sends him on his way. On the opposite wall he’s watching his match with Butch from the ppv.
(Senester): Do you know how many times I’ve watched or match Mr. Parker? I cannot say myself, but I must give credit where it is due…you are every bit the warrior you are touted to be. You steeled your fists against me, your body itself a weapon of mass destruction proving yourself to be the measure of man and athlete which your peers, fans and mere observers enjoy, and can only hope to rise to. You are everything to them, and to your family, yet you failed them both. There is no shame in accepting defeat from the hands of God, Butch Parker, it is an inevitable outcome for all. For your every hold, your every maneuver, your every ounce of ring psychology, for the very soul that drives your cyborg engine…I am God, and the bar you set for others is that upon which I myself stand, it is that upon which I dance. It is a plaything to me as a pommel horse a gymnast. I crushed your body, and I crushed your spirit, and I remain your Lord and Master, I remain the World Heavyweight Champion.
I once groomed you to stand beside me, to raise you up above the commoners you dwell amongst. It is in you this dark menace, and with your sister’s illness I was able to harness it. Your dirty little secret is that you even embraced it. Your mortal coil is damaged, but somehow…it disappointingly remains intact. I gave you the life you bargained for but you took more than that from me, rather you stole time from me, and so I stole from you in kind. I’m a businessman Mr. Parker, and while over the last year and half my grace and benevolence have benefited you far greater than that which you yourself gave in return……….I am willing to compromise and consider us even. I have enjoyed our matches, our battles, our wars…but there are others who need me.
Senester stands up, and stretches, before slowly moving over to the bar, grabbing a fresh ice pack for a wound. He returns to his seat with a limp his body ravaged by aches and pains.
(Senester): These others I speak of…they are those who must be brought to the realm of understanding, to a waking revelation that they are not who they or others think they are. They are not the formidable athletes they look into the mirror and tell themselves they see. No matter the method, or how hard they train, or how high they raise that bar you’ve set for them………I shall always be dancing atop it. Wanting to be the best, training to be superior does not make it so. They cannot posses that which already belongs to me, you Mr. Parker are evidence of that. Bryan Deas is still buzzing around, lamenting his days as World Heavyweight Champion and clutching his return match close to his chest.
How many times must I put the sickly dog down before he stops begging for a bone? How many more laps does the lame horse have in him before he succumbs to the realization that he’ll never win the race ? He is a grain of salt in my sea, and yet he projects himself as a wave of devastation. When once more we meet, I will defeat him yet again. There is no pleasure for me in this, it is a mere chore. You are the hero to the masses Butch Parker, by choice or by design the title is yours. Be his hero. Be his friend. Ask him how if the great Butch Parker can only fail against God, what hope does a pathetic, lowly creature such as he have against me?
I speak also of Freddie Styles, who defeated Antonio Romano at Blood, Sweat & Tears to earn a shot at my World Title. I admire his drive, his determination, and I may go so far as to suggest that I even respect him for this, yet it will bring him to naught against me. The change he seeks in this business is not impossible, merely improbable. Mr. Styles is determined to make a name for himself, and while I have no doubt that he shall do so, it will not come at my expense. Our match, when it occurs is indeed an opportunity, but not really one for the World Heavyweight Championship. It is an opportunity for him to showcase his talents against greatness, an opportunity for him to learn from his loss and further refine his skills. As long as we all understand this, it should present itself as an enjoyable and profitable confrontation.
The screen shows a swarm of media outside a local hospital. Nosey, paparazzi desperate for a crumb of news even in this late hour.
(Senester): By now Mr. Parker every media outlet across the globe is on your doorstep in some way with their miserable congratulations and begging for the first exclusive interview, and baby photos of your newborn daughter. The social norm is congratulations, but why would I offer best wishes to you and to Wisdom on a mistake? When I think of your child, I imagine nothing but an error, a hindrance to rampant lion inside you. If anything I’d wish you pestilence. I’d wish for your little girl some malady that would give you your life back, by ending hers. It was such with your first born son who perished. Look what you have become since then. You’d never be the man you are now had he survived, and you’ll never be the man you could be if she lives. Think about it Mr. Parker, all you need do is ask. I gave you a life once before, I can take one as well. I am he who commands flesh, blood and bone. Enjoy this time if you must, but know I am ever watchful, and it is never too late to come home……to the Lord.
Fade to black.
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