"Alright! So we're agreed?"
"You bet! We know Santa is bringing all the good stuff, but Synn also gives us goodies."
"Right! And Santa's stash is in a good hiding spot up in the North Pole, but Synn can't go that far just to hide presents."
"What makes you so sure?"
"Hm?"
"What makes you so sure?"
"Whaddya mean?"
"Well look at all the other things that Synn is capable of accomplishing. I mean, he did manage to get you all of those out-of-print Looney Tunes editions, didn't he?"
"Your point being?"
"My point is that if he can get something monumental like that accomplished, what would be so hard about taking a little trip to the North Pole to hide our presents from us?"
"Well, it's not such a little trip. It is pretty far."
"Pretty far? I looked at a map once and it couldn't be more than a foot away from Nevada."
"No fooling? Hmm... and maps don't lie. You know, because they don't talk. So, you think we may have hidden them up in Santa's work shop?"
"No, not really."
"No? Well then why have we been discussing it as a possibility then!?"
"Just killing time until the cookies are done. Then we can commence on the hunt!"
"Good plan!"
"But of course!"
The soft *ding* of the oven's timer alerted Despayre from where he was sitting in the spacious living room, on the tanned carpeting with Angel perched on his lap. On Angel's lap was a thick, hard cover novel, the complete trilogy of 'the Lord of the Rings' open somewhere in the dead center of the epic series. To the untrained eye, it might appear as if Despayre was reading to Angel ... or vice-versa. Let's not forget this is Angel and Despayre that we're talking about, after all. But in 'reality', Despayre was only using this to fool the 'nosey' onlooker. He and Angel were actually swapping theories on the location of some of their hidden Christmas presents, and how they might go about finding them.
Every so often, up until this moment, one of the other residents of the house, either Theresa, the frequent guest Rage, or Synn himself, would pass the room and steal a glance in to where this little conspiratorial duo was huddled in a corner, plotting to expose the secrets of the household -- or at least the more 'Christmassy' part of it.
"How's that book coming along, Despy?" one of them would call out to him and he'd reply "It's too long!", sending them on their way. Absently, he reached over and stroked his tabby feline, Sebastian, with his free hand along the cat's back as the kitty snoozed on the arm rest of the sofa. This weekend Synn had promised to take him (and Angel) and Theresa to go see the Hobbit as a bit of a weekend treat. So Despayre had used this time as a bit of an excuse to plot with his bear pal in a really sneaky sort of way.
He heard the oven, but it didn't quite register until the metallic sound of the oven door being pulled open did he put two and two together to equal ...
"Oo! They're ready!" Despayre said hurriedly and he jumped up, dropping the thick book onto the soft cushions of the sofa and he (and Angel) ran into the kitchen, just in time to witness Theresa pull part of the bounty from the oven. The soft, sugary scent immediately filled the kitchen and Despayre closed his eyes and inhaled in a dreamy state.
I ask you; is there any better tradition at this time of year than good, old fashioned Christmas cookies?
"Oh boy! Those sure smell good!" Despayre chirped cheerily as he watched the housekeeper set the first of many trays onto the stove and counter to cool. It was her own little tradition to make a batch of cookies for the men of the house, and to give a few batches to their closest of neighbors, never minding the fact that Synn rarely associated with those living close by.
Theresa turned to spot the boy reaching for a cookie on a pan and she spoke up with an authorative tone, "Don't, Joshua." And he immediately pulled his hand back and looked at her with an immediate hurt in his eyes. No matter the level of progress he made with people, it would always be to the point that Despayre was an incredibly sensitive sort and any manner of scolding would wound him inside.
Softening her tone, she nodded, "Those just came out of the oven, sweety. They're too hot to touch. I don't want you to burn your fingers."
The hurt in his eyes slowly subsided as he nodded at her explanation.
"They're for me, though?" He asked.
"They're for ]everyone." She answered, standing upright to look at him and she wagged a forefinger toward him. "I don't want you gorging yourself again and getting sick like last year."
Despayre flopped against the island counter with a dreamy wisp of a smile and he cupped his chin in his hand, and said, "I remember. Boy was it worth it!"
"Speak for yourself." Theresa said, turning away to pull out another pan. "You didn't have to clean up that mess."
"Ow!"
Theresa quickly stood upright and spun around to see Despayre wincing, with his fingers stuck in his mouth. She huffed, setting her hands on her hips and Despayre gave her a 'deer caught in the headlights' look and pointed silently at Angel who was on the kitchen counter.
She shook her head and sighed, "If you just let them cool off, I'll let you help me decorate them. Okay?"
Despayre turned and spotted across the kitchen several plastic bowls filled with sprinkles of holiday colors, and several icing bags in reds, greens and white.
"Okay!" He nodded eagerly.
"And you won't make a mess?" She said. "Promise?"
"Promise!"
Of course promises like that could be said to be as soft as the cookies he had sworn on, because it wasn't an hour later that the cookies were completely cooled off and Theresa had declared them fit to be decorated. An excitable Despayre had taken center stage at the kitchen counter and once she showed him how to use the icing bags, he set about to creating tasty works of art... well, to him anyway.
You know how kids are when they attempt these very same tasks. They see works of art, but everyone else sees globs of frosting everywhere. Still, it was all about having fun and Despayre certainly was doing that! And despite her hard demeanor, Theresa was admittedly having a bit of fun herself, watching over his progress while she decorated her own batch.
Despite the promises made, there were smears of icing everywhere; on the counters, and of course -- on Despayre. Oh he tried to do her good but he was just having too much fun to really be able to contain himself. The only thing she would not allow, was for him to lick the frosting from his fingers and go right back to work without washing his hands first. He did so dutifully before returning to his creations.
Truth be told, the only thing that did not have a mess all over them was, you guessed it -- Angel! The teddy bear sat on the counter with a bag of red icing in its paws and a perfectly decorated cookie on a plate before him. Even Theresa had some icing on her hands and apron, so how did the bear manage to remain so clean? Easy! Angel got motion sickness in the washing machine so he dared not need a bath for as long as possible!
What? You expected a more rational explanation?
Despayre took a step back from another cookie, freshly covered in a drizzle of red and green icing. He looked it over carefully, holding his hands out in a classic artistic pose for scrutinizing, with his tongue stuck out at the side of his lips. Theresa could not help but watch with a bemused expression, as Despayre dipped his hands in a bowl of red, green and white sprinkles and dropped the entirety on the cookie.
"There!" He declared. "Another masterpiece!"
He blinked and then looked at Angel.
"What do you mean a messterpiece? What's THAT supposed to mean!?" He turned and looked at the housekeeper who had hurriedly averted her attentions. "Do you like my cookies?"
Theresa answered, "I love them."
Despayre turned back to Angel and stuck his tongue out at the bear with a hearty "Nyah!" just as Rage walked into the kitchen.
Having witnessed this little childish action, he arched an eyebrow and looked at Theresa, asking "Do I even want to know?"
"Probably not." She answered, moving a platter of decorated cookies aside to begin on a fresh batch.
Rage nodded, then looked at Despayre and said, "So how're the cookies coming?"
"Great!" He chirped. "I decorated allll these!" He waved his hand at two platters filled with cookies that were covered in icing and sprinkles.
Rage nodded, then said, "Well you're gonna have to take a break here, Despy. Synn has a chore for you."
"For me?" Despayre looked up, blinking. "A chore? What an odd thing to say." And he picked up another icing bag and squeezed it's end, causing it to emit a thick glob of red frosting all over a cookie. "I'm busy helping Theresa." And he tossed on another small handful of sprinkles.
Rage said, "He wants me to go pick out a Christmas tree. Said he wants you to help."
Now that bit of information certainly attracted Despayre's attention. He practically dropped the icing and sprinkles and looked up with a wide eyed wonder.
"Christmas tree? It's time to get ours?"
Rage nodded. "That's what the man said."
"Oh BOY!" Despayre squealed and he dropped everything in his hands. He wrapped his arms around Angel and high tailed it around the kitchen counter and right past Rage and Theresa. A moment later, he sheepishly walked back into the kitchen and looked at the house keeper.
He asked, "Is it okay if I help clean up when we get back?"
Theresa looked in the air and sighed gently, before looking back down and at him with a light wisp of a smile. She just closed her eyes and nodded and Despayre let out a 'woop' and turned back around and raced out to grab his jacket and leave.
Rage growled in a low, deep tone and looked at the house keeper who had immediately went back to work on her cookies. He
said, "Synn owes me big for this..." And he turned around and left as well.
Theresa heard Despayre's voice from the hall as she could only presume to guess he was getting his jacket on to stave off the winter chill; "Too bad we don't have a dog! They always pick out the best trees!"
Theresa couldn't help but bark out in an unladylike fit of laughter as she heard the front door shut behind the two men. Only moments later did Synn emerge from wherever he had been lurking; most likely in his office working on some wrestling project or other. She watched as he walked toward the refrigerator, noting that his eyes looked somewhat swollen and he coughed once in his fist as he opened the fridge door.
"Are you alright?" She asked with a frown as he removed a bottle of ice cold beer from the fridge and he popped the cap off easily with his free hand.
"I'm fine." He answered. "Why do you ask?"
"No reason." She said, turning away but clearly not believing. "Rage and Joshua just left to get the tree."
"I know." He smiled as he put the bottle to his lips and took a drink. "It's getting harder and harder to figure out things for him to do every day to distract him away from searching for his and Angel's presents."
"It sounds safe." Theresa observed as she turned and went toward the stove to put on a kettle for tea, presumably for Synn despite his claims to perfect health. "After all, what could go wrong getting a Christmas tree?"
What, indeed?
Of course if you've never seen a Despayre promo before, you wouldn't realize what an open ended question that would be. If you have, well then you wouldn't really be at all surprised by the following;
Just over an hour had passed when the front door swung open and a gleeful Despayre came charging in, "We got it! We got it!"
Synn came out of his study, sipping at his second cup of tea that Theresa was now practically forcing down his throat. He said, "Well, let's get it in. Then we can..."
Synn narrowed his eyes as he studied his son as Despayre stood there, holding Angel in a loving cuddle with an impish smile on his face.
"Okay, out with it." Synn said. "What happened?"
Despayre shook his head in bewildered denial and shrugged his shoulders, but before he could say anything, Rage came inside, looking disheveled and brushing pine needles off of his jacket.
"I'll tell you what happened...." rage started but Despayre interrupted...
"Theresa is gonna give it to you for messing up her carpet, ya know."
Rage glanced at the young man, then looked at Synn and said, "Despy here insisted we go to that tree farm where we could cut down the tree ourselves."
Synn shrugged, "Yeah? So?"
Rage looked at Despayre who frowned himself and barked, "It wasn't my fault the tree fell on you!"
Rage countered, "You told me where I should stand safely."
"I did not!"
"Okay, Angel did."
"Well..." Despayre said in a manner of innocence that was not at all convincing, "If you aren't old enough to make your own decisions then you shouldn't be listening to a teddy bear's advice." And for good measure, he jetted his chin out in a "so there" gesture.
Rage started to say something, then took a deep breath to steady himself. He instead shook a forefinger at Despayre and said, "You're getting coal in your stocking, little man!"
Despayre immediately gasped deeply and pointed at Rage's retreating form with eyes wide open.
"Ah, what was could have been, will now soon be."
"I was admittedly quite disappointed when last week, the advertised encounter against Kain and Frost was not to be. I had made certain that Despayre and Gabriel were ready for a triple threat championship defense against that very formidable combination, and the team that they ended up against alone, Blade Alexander and Goth. But enough about them. This is about a fresh team, and the one the champions had been prepared for."
"Sinful Obsession has been put against a great number of varied combinations, but I don't think any of them had the potential that Kain and Frost do. Both Despayre and Gabriel are quite familiar with Kain from times past, and who isn't aware of the reputation Frost has built in his stay here in Sin City Wrestling? Alone, both are skilled singles wrestlers. Put together, and you have two men who could be viable threats for the tag team titles. Well, once someone else holds the gold. So long as the Sins have them, they are going nowhere."
"Listen to those words closely, Max Burke and Trevor Irons. You call yourselves the Young Lions, but as far as I can tell, lions are a species near extinction, and if you wish to take what does not belong to you, that very same distinction would be laid before your feet. The Tag Team Championships belong to Sinful Obsession. It is simply the way of things."
"Now and forever."
