Mormon - FU
Laurent
Neu
I had been taking
Mormon-Fun for quite a few years, since I was eight years old being trained in
the School of Sunday & Seminary. Having had many good instructors and
coaches, knowing some great moves and stances, my coach decided it was time for
my title match. This was not a national, state, city, or even
block title. It was something far more important to me and to those who
knew me, for if I won this, I would be able to practice in the Celestial Dojo
with the best master ever.
As I
walked in to the locker room, I saw my opponent putting on his murky black
karate uniform. His name was Lucifer D. Satan. He'd been around for a very long
time. He was small quick, deceptively powerful, and an unbelievably chatty fighter.
From the moment I walked in, he began taunting me trying to make me attack him
in the locker room and get disqualified before the match even began. I kept my
cool and said "I do my talking in the ring." "I do my talking in
the ring," he mimicked.
As
they led us into the ring, I could see a small crowd in the top ten rows of the
five hundred row stadium and could tell it was going to be a very rough crowd.
As the referee went over the ground rules, some of the crowd jumped in the
ring, knocked the referee out and dragged him away. As I watched helplessly,
the bell rang and the devil landed a vicious blow to the head, full of hate and
malice. While I lay on the ground, he swung at me with evil music left and
right. This took a little out of me, but in an unprecedented move, I stood up
and bore my testimony, but he slashed through with a brunette in a mini-skirt.I stumbled back and leaned heavily against the ropes,
but I acted more dazed than I was and as he came in I spun and nailed him with
a church hymn. He struck blindly with a fast car, but I blocked him with our
dying Ford and countered him with the power of prayer.He
tried hopelessly to hit with evil urges, but I side stepped with a family that
cared for me greatly and gave an uppercut with the power of the Priesthood.
He
was bleeding from several places now, but as I attacked with a solid testimony
of the Word of Wisdom, suddenly he side stepped and grabbed me with a boring
speaker in a sleeper hold. I slid out with a good spiritual Fast and Testimony
Meeting, but I was noticeably hurt. He tried to drop me with a fishing trip on
Sunday, but that was his mistake, I don't fish well. I began to pepper him with
a few quick trips to the temple interposed with baptisms for the dead. He was
on
the run now, as I threw
a few scriptures from the Book of Mormon. In my best to finish him off, I ran
right into sports on Sunday. I swung with a friend taping the Super Bowl for me
on Sunday. But I was noticeably stung and bleeding in a few places. He struck back
again and again with drugs and pornography and anything he could get his hands
on, but his arsenal was shrinking quickly.
We
stood back for a second. Blood was dripping from both of us. All of a sudden my
inner strength swelled, and I hit him viciously with a mission call. I tattooed
the signature of Gordon B. Hinkley across his
forehead and knocked him out by serving a successful and honorable mission. I
knew that was not all. True enough, I had won this match, but I knew there
would always be a rematch and he would be back again, only more powerful next
time.