“Anything you can do, I can do too! Anything you can do, I can do better than you-u-u-u!” Taunted Coyote, god of chaos, tricks, and mischief. Many, many tried to prove him wrong; every time, whatever they did, Coyote would mimic perfectly—or, if he had seen something before, he would do it better.
Coyote knew many, many secrets; most, he’d gladly reveal to show that he knew, or to cause trouble. One secret though, greatest of all, he would never, EVER tell anyone. This great secret was that, though Coyote could copy anything, try as he might, he couldn’t do anything he hadn’t witnessed first. If someone climbed the highest, most unreachable peak, Coyote would laugh and climb it too. If he saw an unbeatable monster defeated, he would beat another monster the same way. If someone outran light, traveled through time, whatever it was, Coyote did just like they. But Coyote couldn’t do anything first. He could draw, but only what he’d seen put on paper. He could speak, but never say a word someone else hadn’t already voiced. He could exist, because he had seen others do so. He could be a leaf, the wind, a constellation, a duck, whatever shape he wanted—but never become nor make something that hadn’t existed before. Some people guessed this secret, and tried to trick Coyote; it never worked. Coyote had seen many people lie, cheat, deceive, and similar. Always, he found some way he seemed to win.
Once, Coyote was challenged to be someone else, not just to change and look like them, but to truly be someone other than he was. Perhaps the challenger thought Coyote could only be himself, or maybe they had some other reason. To win, Coyote became the challenger. They had been them, so he could be too!
Another challenger demanded Coyote make something new, something which had never existed before. That almost stumped him, but then he found the way to cheat and claim victory—he went to another, later time, and learned to make something. With that knowledge, he came back to when he had started and made what he had found later in time.
And then, one day, there was someone who did things that, no matter HOW hard he tried, how many times he mimicked and tried to copy, Coyote could not quite match. Outraged, Coyote gave a challenge that, secretly, even he couldn’t do. He thought that this seemingly unbeatable newcomer would either try and fail, or would give up, knowing it was impossible.
The challenge was attempted, and Coyote laughed and laughed, knowing he had won after all; he had challenged his rival to die, and then return without another’s help. Nobody, not even Coyote himself, had been fully mortal, died, and escaped the clutches of Death. Perhaps they hadn’t died completely, or had been helped back by someone else; perhaps, like Coyote, they had only pretended mortality, pretended to die, showing off they could beat this challenge and trick others into trying it. But none had ever, ever, truly bested the challenge.
Coyote saw his rival had died, for real, and he went on causing mischief and mayhem, laughing all the while. He felt a little sad the trick had worked; after all, in all this time, Coyote had never had such an interesting playmate before! Ah, well—now they were dead and gone forever. Coyote never stayed sad for long, he would always find pranks to play, people he could amuse himself with, often at their expense.
Then, three days later, Coyote was playing tricks and laughing as always when something happened, and Coyote felt it all the way to the very core of his being. He didn’t know what had caused this shift, but he went to see—surely this would be interesting!
The stranger’s tomb was empty.
It couldn’t be! The stranger was DEAD!
The tomb was empty!
Impossible! A trick! It MUST be some kind of deception!! Coyote went to the realms of Death while still alive; this was one trick for getting back out, and he knew it wasn’t what the stranger had done. Coyote felt great fear, terror like he had never known before, and he checked every hiding place he knew, then in desperation, searched out many more. He couldn’t find the stranger anywhere in the realms of Death, not even when he knew the place better than Death themselves.
The stranger had beaten Coyote’s impossible challenge, for real, without any tricks. They had really and truly done it. Coyote went back to the living world and hid. He tried, but couldn’t get the loss out of his mind. It got worse when Coyote crept out of hiding and bumped into the stranger, who was very much alive.
Rather than reveal his fear, Coyote pretended to be furious, showing wrath like never before, and he tried to destroy the stranger, to kill them for real. He couldn’t do it. He couldn’t harm them, however he might try. They had broken free of Death and returned to life; all Coyote’s fury and wrath were useless. He was powerless, beaten, bested, and he knew it.
He fled to the farthest places he could imagine, then went even further, trying to escape from where the stranger held sway. Coyote tried to find somewhere he could pretend to be the best, the cleverest, the unbeatable trickster. Everywhere Coyote went, even though he could run as fast as the best who had ever challenged him, everywhere he went, the stranger and their legacy had gotten there first. Everywhere Coyote traveled, Death was beaten, Coyote wasn’t the most powerful being around, and there was nothing he could do about it.
Who was this stranger? Who had beaten Death, all the powers of evil, and Coyote? Who could return from the realm of Death, who would live forever, longer even than the “immortal” Coyote?
His name was, and is, Jesus.

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Here we have a story of the trickster Coyote, as he has appeared in many myths, and here and there in some of my own story worlds. He's causing trouble as usual, and things take a few unexpected twists along the way.

I woke up at about 5:30 AM after dreaming something like this (and I didn't get to bed till after midnight), and I ended up writing it down as a first draft before I even got out of bed. From there, I tried to go back to sleep, couldn't, and finally dragged myself up out of bed at about 7, 7:30. Got breakfast, added a bit to the draft of this, and then went from there.

Realized that, somehow, I had managed NOT to post this here yet, so I decided to fix that.

I'm still not certain about the title, but I couldn't readily think of anything better. If you have any suggestions about that, or other comments and critique, I would love to hear them!

Also, as one final quick note: I got that opening line stuck in my head for pretty much an entire day at work after I wrote this, complete with a sing-song voice--apparently, one of the people I read a draft to got it stuck in HER head too, so be warned, it's catchy.