A little treat for my Spirit of Fire readers in the form of a Christmas parody that I conceptualised but never posted during December 2018. Hope you enjoy!

 

--------------------------------------------------------------------------

A Fiery Christmas

Screenplay by

Stellar

 

INT. LIVING ROOM - EVENING

It is a cosy residential lounge space, with Christmas decorations on the walls. An armchair is in front of a partially-visible fireplace, with a roaring fire. An attractive YOUNG MAN with long flowing red hair reclines in the seat, lost in contemplation. He wears a tone matching red suit and darker red vest, and holds a goblet casually aloft in his right hand. Both elegant and arrogant, he notices and addresses the camera directly a moment after the focus is on him.

ARAZIAH

Greetings of the season to you, fellow human beings!

Araziah smiles in an altogether too-charming manner. It is the smile of an alien attempting to imitate human friendliness with a conspicuous over-abundance of success.

ARAZIAH (CONT’D)

Since it is now the month of December, and we are fast approaching the celebrated days during which our definitely-human traditions demand a blood sacrif--

He is interrupted by an inaudible URGENT WHISPERING from off-camera left, causing him to glance that direction momentarily before he resumes on a different tack.

ARAZIAH (CONT’D)

--demand merrymaking and ... good tidings?

Araziah is taken aback, the concept unexpected, but he quickly resumes, again.

ARAZIAH (CONT’D)

Well, anyhow, since we are nearing that time, the cast of Spirit of Fire wishes to offer our positive sentiments, along with a friendly commentary. This election cycle, the lack of popular winners to higher office who advocate fire-based problem solving and draconic-welfare initiatives is appalling, and--

He is interrupted again by further FURIOUS WHISPERING from off-camera left, which he replies to in an undertone.

ARAZIAH (CONT’D)

Can’t talk about it? What do you mean, politics is in bad taste? Really. What about immolation jokes? Not even just a small one about flame-broiled senators? A crispy-fried mayor? No? Well, that is disappointing.

(pause, smile, back to the camera)

What I certainly meant to say was: we wish to offer our positive sentiments, along with a friendly reminder. Despite the content of our wonderful tale, with the most handsome and charismatic carmine-haired male lead you could ask for, the subject matter is unfortunately fictional.

(pause)

Dragons are not, in fact, real. They aren’t secretly hiding within civilisation, they don’t possess incredible magical powers, and they definitely have no interest in conquering the world. So, please continue to go about celebrating your-- ... erm, OUR pointless human traditions to false gods just like always.

Pan quickly to reveal the rest of the fireplace. Next to it is leaning another YOUNG MAN with shorter brown hair, dressed in a pale blue evening robe. Both hands are comfortably tucked in front pockets, and between his lips is a pipe, from which a series of bubbles is frothing. Raising a hand, he holds the pipe away from his mouth before speaking.

TORSTEN

Well, I think we both know that isn’t true.

ARAZIAH

Nonsense! On my honour as a regular non-dragon human being, it’s all a collection of storybook imagination! These creatures simply don’t exist, no matter how gloriously red they would appear, nor how large their wings are, nor how magnificently sexually attractive they must surely be. There is just no way dragons can be real.

(pause, to sip his goblet)

Also, what about proof? A distinct lack of credible witnesses makes it difficult to allege that these awesome and undeniably beautiful creatures exist.

TORSTEN

What about me? I’m a witness!

(pause, to blow bubbles)

I’m a dragon magnet! I’m telling you, I can’t even set foot outside the house without tripping over a flying murder-lizard!

MONTAGE:

EXT. FRONT DOOR - MORNING

Torsten opens the door, bleary and sleep-dishevelled in a dressing gown, and starts walking to the mailbox. He gets no further than three steps before he trips over a GREEN DRAGON TAIL. Zoom out to reveal a GREEN DRAGON sleeping next to the house, on the lawn.

EXT. FRONT DOOR - ANOTHER MORNING

Again Torsten opens the door, beginning the same walk. He makes it a half dozen steps this time before tripping over a BLUE DRAGON TAIL. Zoom out to reveal a BLUE DRAGON sleeping on the road, with its tail slung over the front fence and across the front of the house.

Torsten clenches his fists.

EXT. FRONT DOOR - A THIRD MORNING

Yet again, Torsten opens the door and starts the walk to the mailbox. He makes it all the way there, but the moment before he reaches it, a BLACK DRAGON TAIL smashes into the spot like a hammer, wiping out the box and spraying mail everywhere. Zoom out to reveal a BLACK DRAGON in the neighbour’s yard, turning fitfully during sleep.

Torsten sighs.

EXT. FRONT DOOR - A FOURTH MORNING

Emerging from the house, Torsten approaches hesitantly, looking back and forth. He sees nothing, and makes it to a freshly-replaced mailbox and front fence. Retrieving the mail, he is walking back, the journey almost completed without incident, when he trips -- again. From out of nowhere, a WHITE DRAGON TAIL shimmers into visibility. Zoom out to reveal a WHITE DRAGON coiled around the house like a python. It cracks an eyelid momentarily and smirks.

Torsten, sprawled on the ground, mail everywhere, glares at it and curses loudly.

END OF MONTAGE

INT. LIVING ROOM - EVENING

Araziah stares Torsten down with a disbelieving expression, before he shrugs, not accepting the story.

ARAZIAH

Sounds like a trick of the light, or bad weather conditions. Are you sure your defective human senses didn’t just mistake something dragon-shaped for the real deal?

TORSTEN

No, I definitely wasn’t mistaken--

ARAZIAH

(interrupting, forced laughter)

Excellent! Hahaha! So, with that cleared up, we’d like to wish you a Merry Human-mas, and a dragon-free vacation! Isn’t that right, Sebby?

Pan right to a Christmas display, with seven plastic reindeer seated in front of a sleigh full of presents. In place of the eighth is SEBBY, a short, slim, pretty young man with silver hair and eyes. He is dressed in a close fitting REINDEER ONESIE and is sitting demurely, hands in lap, chest forward, butt stuck out, with a little pair of antlers to finish the look.

SEBBY

That’s right.

He winks at the camera and bites his lip flirtatiously.

SEBBY (CONT’D)

Nobody here but us reindeer.

Zoom to his face, a twinkle of electrical magic flickering in his eyes for just a second.

 

FADE OUT

THE END.