A Red Christmas

by Jason Spade Sat Dec 22, 2018 3:31 am

The camera fades in to reveal Jason Spade in his red and silver ring gear, standing with his back to the camera and wearing a Santa hat on his head.

"I don't like to dwell on things. But some things over my career have stuck with me. Being thrown out of a helicopter into the Pacific Ocean with both of my hands tied behind my back is a good one. But a not so good one was the fact that I could never, no matter how hard I tried, beat Chris Proudfoot."

Spade turns to the camera.

"Until now... I did what I said I would do, and I sent Canada's Greatest Export back home, and it feels as though a long, unresolved chapter in my career has finally been closed. Chris, you learned your lesson, I hope. I never asked for your help, but you stuck your nose in my business and ruined my revolution. And now, it seems we're stuck together... A best of seven series to settle this once and for all.

And I'm already up by one. Twice now, in quick succession, I've put you down for the three count. Three more to go, and I can finally put you in my past where you belong. And when I'm done with you..."

Spade clicks a button on a remote in his hand; a wall of monitors lights up behind him, displaying the CMV Undisputed Championship from different angles and in the hands of Jacob Ziegler.

"Nothing will stop me from taking what I deserve."

The monitors switch off and Spade smiles.

"But first, for old times sake, I'd like to show you something."

Spade pulls off his Santa hat and reaches inside, pulling out the remains of a Canadian flag, ripped down the middle.

"Do you remember this? This is the very same flag that I tore way back when, back in... Well, in the company where we first met. I tore this flag to get into your head and show you that I wasn't going easy on you. It seems a bit childish in hindsight, but now... I think it's fitting. The red and the white, the tear... It's kind of symbolic, isn't it? Imagine some fresh snow on the ground stained with your blood. The kind of thing that gives you the warm and fuzzies."

Spade crushes the torn flag in his fist.

"It's also a not-so-subtle forshadowing to what I'm going to do to you. I don't know fi you're still a praying man, but if you are, I'd start praying. There's a red Christmas in your future."

The scene fades to black.