Christmas, the one time a year where we's expected to forget the struggles of our lives, the moral difficulties, our inadequacies. Where we's expected to get together with peoples we love the most... and those we despise the most too. Smiling at the doting mother, the disowned aunt with the same festive grin. A time for giving and sharing, loving and caring, families and friends coming together in one big merry snowball. I has times like this to call my own, if I only reaches into the quicksilver and plucks forth the right time and place... Within this silvery orb is an image that could have been lifted from a postcard. It is Christmas Day. Flames crackle in the fireplace where the stockings are hung, the only light source other than the desk lamp in the corner, where an elderly lady sleeps in her rocking chair. Tinsel clings to the trims of the bookshelves, a multitude of tomes lining each row, and a cat purrs on the couch. The radio is spitting out something by Bing Crosby, and Santa Claus is smiling his cherub grin on the television set. The television is ignored for the only time this year, however, as the eyes of the two children are firmly set on the large evergreen propped in the corner, an assortment of baubles and lights and tinsel adorning it, a golden star presiding over all at the top. "Wait, Jayjay.. Dad will be bringing the presents in a moment.." "Yayyyy!" Annabelle Ethelon was woken earlier this day by the excited screams of a young boy who had discovered his stocking. The stocking had always been Jay's favorite part of Christmas morning, the presents stacked on his bed awaiting his attention upon waking. He'd stopped believing that they were delivered by a jolly bearded man and his flying reindeer some years ago, but that didn't stop Annabelle delivering them to his bedside regardless. Since that time, she has donned a long red dress, and a white apron in order to prepare the afternoon's feast. She has prepared breakfast that has gone mostly untouched, and she has welcomed another young boy into their festive home. "Will there be presents for me too, Mrs. Ethelon?" "Well we weren't expecting you here today, Saul, but I'm sure your mother has something planned�" Far from the men they would become, the younger Jackrabbit and the younger Talon are filled with wonder and awe, dressed in matching red sweaters that Jay's mother has provided. Practically jumping with excitement, they now entertain themselves by playfully tussling, throwing each other into sloppy headlocks and bear hugs, shouting the phrases of their favorite wrestling heroes and just about avoiding knocking Jay's dozing grandma off her rocking chair. Jay pays her no mind though, as he tries to maneuver his best friend into submission. "I want a wrestling T-shirt for Christmas!" "Well I want some more wrestling figures!" "Well I'll get a wrestling backpack!" "Well you'll both have to see what Santa has brought, won't you?" "Awww, mum.. we're a bit old to be believing in Santa. That's soooo childish.." "My mother told me the truth about Santa years ago, Mrs. Ethelon." "Well, you can never be sure until you've travelled all around the world and seen for yourself, boys. There could be magic out there, after all.." The two boys are laughing as the ceiling begins to creak with the sound of footsteps from upstairs. They now break out in excited cheers, knowing that this means the impending arrival of the man of the house, Jay's father, and the aforementioned Santa Claus of this Christmas past. Bruno Ethelon enters the room decked out in a red Christmas jumper, following the family tradition of wearing red on Christmas Day. His jumper, not dissimilar to the boys', is emblazoned with a large reindeer head. A Santa hat adorned in bells now jingles noisily on his head. He wears a smile on this day, the only day a year in which he allows himself to be torn from his endless work. But not the jumper, nor the hat nor the smile, are the focus of the two boys now sat almost-patiently on the carpet. Contrary to his earlier musings, perhaps this is Jay's favorite part of Christmas. In Bruno's hands is a ball of presents- in the literal sense, the presents have been carefully placed together and taped in such a way as to resemble a ball of gifts. "Present Balls!" "Wouldn't be Christmas at the Ethelon's without them, would it Jay?" "What's a Present Ball, Mr. Ethelon?" "My father always brought home the presents from the workshop on Christmas Day, Saul. There were always so many presents.. I had four brothers, you see.. and so Father would tape them all together in a ball shape to make them easier to carry. It's been a tradition in our family ever since." "And do you open them one at a time, Jay?" "One at a time?" Blasphemy. "No way! We open them like this!" Taking the present from his father with a hearty "Thanks Dad!", little Jay begins tearing into the paper, laughing all the time as each discovery gets him more and more excited. Within moments, he is surrounded by torn paper and wrestling memorabilia. Saul looks both bemused and amused, until- "Merry Christmas, Saul. You're practically family now after all." Jay's father holds the Present Ball out to Saul. "Uhm... Merry Christmas Mr. and Mrs. Ethelon. Merry Christmas, Jay." The ball of gifts is now an orb of burning quicksilver, hot with use. You needs to stop looking at that, you're not supposed to look there. That was a very long time ago. I was a very different little Jackrabbit... and you were different too, weren't you Tal? Oh, I don't imagine you even remembers it. I remembers it though, and I remember you, Saul. All those years you presumed these moments were lost. That's one of your greatest fears, isn't it, Tal? Through the quicksilver you gain the access you thrive on, the open door to all the history.. all the knowledge. What was it you always said to me, Tal? Let me see... I have the orb right here.. "Knowledge is power, Jay. Remember that." I remembered it, Tal. But Jackrabbit never listens, does he? Jackrabbit never listens, never learns.. but I DID LISTEN! I DID LEARN! When you put me down at Brawltopia, I was listening then too. And I was learning, Tal. And at Holiday Bash we get to go at it one more time, don't we? Oh, Prezzy Johnson said that Brawltopia was the end.. but he didn't count on us both entering the Christmas Tree match. And so this circus goes on, Talon, this merry-go-round keeps on spinning.. and nobody is going to get between us. Not Doc, not Jesse, not Lorenzy.. Oh, Lorenzy, my poor little friend. We made music last week, didn't we make music, Lorenzy? I told you your future, Lorenzy.. why wouldn't you listen to me? WHY DOES NOBODY LISTEN TO ME!? I dropped you on your silly likkle head like I told you I would, I pinned your stupid dumb carcass like I said I would. I don't hate you though, Lorenzy. You made pretty poems for Jackrabbit, didn't you? But when all's said and done, Lorenzy, that's all you were. Pretty poems. I think you learnt your mistake the hard way, Lorenzy, you and the rest of your little bumchums. But I's taking no chances with you screwballs this week. This week you has the numbers. But last week I told you that four-on-one still left you's outmanned against Jackrabbit, and if you come near me this week, I WILL PROVE IT! You can bring three of you, two of you, twenty-twelve of yous to the Christmas Tree match- you come looking for trouble in Jackrabbit Alley, you'll ALL leave the same way Lorenzy did last week. With a headache. That goes for everyone else in this match, too.. all'a ya's! I doesn't care.. no, I DON'T care if you's Dynamo, I don't care if you's Eva, I don't care if you's one of Zack's posse... Oh, Zack Ber... Perry. That's a name that brings a little shiver down my spine, and not in a Christmas morning kinda way. Zacko, you wacko, you's been pulling strings for longer.. well, for longer than Talon. You's been running this fed in a way that Prezzy Johnson wishes he was running it! And through a teansy twist of fate, you managed to stay out of my path and I stayed outta yours. But don't think I don't know that Jesse would have cashed all his little points on ol' Jackrabbit if I'd been stood there instead of Talon. DON'T THINK I DON'T KNOW! P'raps things woulda ended so very different if you'd had The Unorthodox One staring at you in that ring, Williamses.. P'raps you engineerised everything so that I wasn't anywhere near by when you STOLE THE TAG TEAM CHAMPIONSHIPS! Well Jesse, you and your almost-friends won't be getting so lucky at Holiday Bash. Zachary can only stick his boat in the oars so far.. you'll be climbing that Christmas Tree yourselves. And it makes no difference whatsoevers whether-ever its Jesse or Eclipse or Greg or Nick... oh Nick, don't think I don't remember seeing your face backstage at En-El-Dub.. The Jackrabbit remembers everything. Did I mention that? I forget.. You've dodged my rubber pellets for a long time Likkle Nicky, but luck is only so long and you's is coming to an end at Holiday Bash. Keep an eye out Nicky, I'll be looking for you, we've got a dance to dance together! Hahhahaaa! And as for your favorite Team Sex Partner, well Gregaeus.. Sunday night is the night when you thank me. Why? Because I've got my eyes out for you too, Jacksoniser... The Jackrabbit is going to give you a late Christmas pressie, just like all those little elves you know? I'm going to give you the pressie of knocking you off that Tree so hard that you have no choice but to take your baseball and walk away from the Oh-Dub-Eff. That's a pressie, Greg, because I KNOW YOUR FUTURE!. I know where you should be, Greg, and I know where you are. And right now you should be out finding your likkle boy instead of risking everything against thirteen of the Oh Dub Eff's best, and Adam Wilson. Ah, Willies.. "what promise he had." That's what they will say about you, Adamo. The prodigy that was meant to be but never was. The potential that was never realized, the hopes that just didn't hope enough. You've lost almost everything you've ever strove for, Willies, and that's not about to change. You think that a big win over a washed-up Plague means you have a hope in all the blue hells of winning the Christmas Tree match? Willies, who hasn't beaten Plague? Adamo, you threw your lot in with The Enigma.. YOU TRIED TO REPLACE ME! You failed Adamo, and Doc had to step in and put you down like a sick doggie. But don't think you've won any forgiveness from The Jackrabbit for that.. I never got a chance to end you, Wilson. I never got a chance to pay you back mano-et-rabbito for all the sneak attacks and blindsides and for STEALING MY TALON! You won't be saving me at Holiday Bash, Wilson. In factuals, you won't even be able to save yourself, ha haaa! You'll be finding a new faith; it'll be called Pray-That-Jackrabbit-Stops-Smacking-Me-Upside-The-Head-With-A-Christmas-Bauble-Ism. See you Sunday, Adamo, hahhaahah hahahahaaahahaha hahahahahahahahahahahaah..." * * * It is Christmas Day. A profitable day for the cybercaf�s, as customers pile in to send e-mails and Facebook messages to their loved ones, to wish season's greetings from wherever they have decided to travel, away from those that care about them the most. They've gone this far, seen the world, and lost yet another Christmas in exchange. They couldn't drop everything to be there this morning, so they will have to settle for a Skype call instead. A woman sits at one pod, their laughing son's face on-screen. A man sits alone in another pod, his boyfriend's face in a Christmas hat, grinning back at him from a Facebook page. The proprietor of this particular locale has nobody to log on for, having left them all behind many years ago to bring himself here. But Christmas means money, and so to accommodate these festive few, he has draped neutral holly and snowflakes across the walls, tinsel lines the monitors of each computer pod. He wouldn't want to offend anybody that may not celebrate this occasion, this isn't even a predominantly Christian country after all, he left that behind too. Into the cybercaf� walks a large man, a loose T-shirt stretched down over a rotund belly, dark green chinos baggy on his legs. His trainers are caked in snow, his hair wind swept across his forehead. "Merry Christmas, sir! How can I help?" the proprietor greets him, a cheery smile on his face. For this day alone, the smile isn't faked. It's Christmas Day, after all. "Christmas?" An incredulous look crosses the face of Tero Haber. It is almost practiced, like he had fully anticipated this conversation from the outset. "Must you greet everybody who comes to give you their money with these false platitudes? Christmas is an archaic habit, designed for people who have nothing better to strive towards than a three day period of over-indulgence. This is a new age, where every day is Christmas, where every day is the spending of the digital dollar, every day is an e-card with forced glee." "Forced, sir? I assure you I meant the words, but I realize maybe don't celebrate.. accept my apologies. May you let me wish you a happy holidays instead?" "You may wish me a fruitful Wednesday, at best. And even that will be false. But rest easily, I shall leave here happy, regardless. I'll take a mocacinno and set me up at your fastest tower." "No mocacinnos sir, would a coffee suffice?" "No mocacinnos? And you call this a caf�?! A Merry Christmas indeed! A coffee then, but make it milky." Tero does not wait for the response before setting himself up in the computer pod, the flat-screen flicking to life instantly, a log-in screen powered by Windows 8 glaring back at him. Checking across his shoulder that the proprietor has made his way into the backroom, Tero takes a flash-drive from a cord around his neck, and forces it into the USB drive. The log-in screen is replaced instantly by a plain black screen with a blinking cursor on it. One more check, and Tero types into the screen:- Respond.| I'm here.| Firewall is open. Are we in position?| Y.| Confirm positions.| Two at back, four at front. CS on standby.| And the worm?| 75%.| Good. Upon completion, engage.| Y.| The future is now.| And we are watching.| Every screen in the cybercaf� suddenly blinks off, replaced by this same black screen and the repeated maxim. WEAREWATCHINGWEAREWATCHINGWEAREWATCHINGWEAREWATCHING Cries go up from the other computer users as their loved ones are eliminated from their monitors. Tero is the only one to not be shocked, instead reaching under his T-shirt and removing a gas mask, which he places calmly over his face. Less than five seconds pass before the gas fills the room and the other patrons fall to the floor, spluttering and clutching at their eyes. Tero walks casually between them, checking that each monitor is displaying the mantra, ensuring that each tower is under his control. He leans over the nearest keyboard and taps in: We're ready. Prepare for the next assault on Mr. Guile and his associates.| He pays no attention as the suited men in gas masks enter the building, as the sound of the proprietor shouting from the backroom is met with gunfire. "Merry Christmas, indeed! Now one of you finish making that coffee.." * * * Is Christmas not supposed to be about good will to all the men, all them less fortunate, about helping them in need? Isn't that the Dicks.. Dick.. Dickensian way? Of course, Christmas hasn't been about those things for many years. I suppose everybody would believe that Jackrabbit holds Christmas dear, that he celebrates with the same bouncy jolliness he brings to every other day. YOU'RE IGNORANT, the lot of you. Opening presents around the tree with family and friends, those days were a very long time ago. Those days were taken from me. Taken from me by Talon. The silver orb is supple in his hand, warping like warm putty without his even touching it. He morphs it into a house. A two-storey home of red bricks, with a garage and a sunroom. It is spattered in the first signs of snow, but is notable for being the only house on the block that is not adorned with colorful lights in the shapes of stars and snowflakes and reindeers. It is Christmas Day. A figure stares at this house from the road. His attire is not fitting for this weather, a pair of blue plaid long shorts, a plain black T-shirt, sunshades despite the overcast skies. These have been Jackrabbit's choice of clothes since the accident. Across his shoulder is a sack, red like Santa. The house is exactly as he saw it a month ago, to this day, when he had wanted so much to run inside and snuggle the parents he had nearly forgotten. He had walked away then, leaving Daddy to console Mummy in their grief. He could not give them Jay Ethelon back, because Jay Ethelon was dead. Perhaps this day though, he could return Christmas to the Ethelons instead! He had spent the last four weeks in his first pro-wrestling company, a place called Total Extreme Wrestling. He had gone on a rampage, finally releasing all that anger and frustration on the unsuspecting roster. He had won TEW title gold in his second match just two weeks ago, but gold wasn't his goal, and that anger and frustration wasn't meant for the likes of Havoc or Draco or Dusty Diamond. It was meant for the man he now sought, the man he'd known as Saul. His vengeance would be had, but today was not that day. Today was Christmas Day! And in this very house was his mummy and daddy. He couldn't bring them Jay Ethelon, but he could bring them The Jackrabbit! DING DONG DING DONGGG! The doorbell hadn't changed. A moment passes, and he spends it hopping around in a circle on just one leg. The game was making sure that he didn't drop the sack whilst doing so. Slowly, the door creeps open, and a tired looking man with newly-graying hair is staring back at him. "DADDY!!!!!!" "S-..son?" "Merrrryyyyy Christmases!!!" He leaps onto his father, embracing him in a massive hug, leaving the red sack on the floor at their feet. For a while, they simply enjoy the embrace, and then there is a screaming and his mother has joined them at the door. She is bawling her eyes out already, trying desperately to squeeze herself in there to hug them too. "I can't believe it, I can't believe it.." she repeats over and over again, and The Jackrabbit feels the moisture on his arm, "It's me, Mummy, it's me!" he assures her, bouncing up and down and forcing them to do so. Finally Bruno Ethelon breaks the embrace, holding his son by the shoulders and staring at him. "What.. Where have you been?" "Ohhh, it'sa long long long story, Daddy! I been all over the world and around and around in all's the rings that are actually square.. can you believe that, Daddyo? Square rings! I dropped Living Legends on their heads, I took gold offa Hellacious Ones.." "�Jay?" He stops. They stop. A silence passes between them and the heartfelt embrace becomes an uncomfortable moment. This is not what they expected. This is not what he expected. "Not Jay, Daddy, never Jay. Jay is gone, Daddy, Jay is dead. I'm The Jackrabbit.. don'tchya know..!" "My little Jayjay?" "Not now, Mummy, your little Jackrabbitjackrabbit.. that's me! I did it Mummy, I travelled the whole wide world.. I'm still looking though, Mummy.." She has positioned herself behind Bruno, but she's probably just cold. The door is open, and there is snow on the ground, he decides. "L-looking for what?" "For Santa, of course! For magic!!" "What� sorry, who are you?" Normally he'd have an answer, a fast-paced over-excited response. He could reel off the names they gave him, The Unorthodox One, The Lunacy Act, He Who Laughs Last. He could tell them all about The Jackrabbit. "It's Jay.." Annabelle is crying again, Mummy is crying, but this time it is different. She is not smiling, and Daddy looks stern, like he would whenever little Jay interfered with his work or broke something with his play-wrestling. But he is not Jay anymore. "I.. we need you to.. Please leave here." A meek whisper from Mummy. "Leave? But Mummy, I's just got here! We still need to snuggle, we still need to open presents and play Christmasy games, we needs to.." "Listen!" The Jackrabbit doesn't remember his Daddy ever shouting like this. It must be the cold. "I don't know what sick game you're playing.. I don't know who you are or� or who put you up to doing this.. but we're not listening to any more. Our son� our son is dead." "No, Daddio.." The door slams, shaking snow off the overhang and onto The Jackrabbit's shoulders. He begins hammering at the door, screaming to be let in, screaming about presents and stockings and gingerbread houses. The door creaks open just an inch, the chain is on. "I'm sorry.." his mother, or at least, one of her eyes, the side of her mouth. "I'm sorry. Merry Christmas� Jayjay.." And the door slams again, leaving The Jackrabbit to stare at the wooden paneling. The wind has blown the red sack open, and in the snow lays the remains of a ball of presents� The silver house becomes putty in his hands. But Christmas is time to put the pasts behind us, right? It'll be oh-so-sad to have to forget all the things we had, Doc Holloway. It'll be oh-so-sad to let Fool's Gold become a distant memory when it comes all the way down to Doc and Jackrabbit sitting-in-a-tree.. a fifteen-foot high Christmasy tree, that is! Haaa ha! I won't hesitate though, Doc- and I know you won't, either. We's been friends for months now, Doccy, but if it comes down to the fact at Holiday Bash.. I will gladly answer the question on the lips of 'Rabbit Fans worldwide.. who really lead that team? We never expected to be a team though, did we Docski? Who'd have guesseded that it wouldn't be Nick Perry or Greg Jackson walking out of Pool of Blood with an arm in the air? Did anyone ever predict that The Jackrabbit and Doc Holloway would win that match, and would walk into Altitude O for the Tag Team Championships? And I'd have loved to see all the odds for our match against Foxie Loxie and Eva.. We shoulda put money on that, you know? Twos to one, threes to four, sixteen to eightyten! We'd have taken the lot, along with those Tag Team belts too! And yet.. Pool of Blood, Altitude O, and yet still� NOBODY WILL BELIEVE IN JACKRABBIT! In 2013, I's shoned more than anybody else in the whole Oh-Dub-Ef when it comes to high risk matches.. I conquered my fears, and not only did I conquer them, I EXCELLED IN THEM! The stakes for thems matches was Tag Team gold.. shiny belts to share with another, to share with the good Doctor.. Imagines, if you can, what Jackrabbit will do to get a World Title shot.. A chance at the gold that doesn't need sharing, a shiny belt that would be MINE MINE, ALL MINE! That kinda goal is something that the likes of Ataxia and RedDea.. Redemption haven't ever known. We're kindred spirits in that way, isn't we? The difference between you kids and Jackrabbit, is that I don't need to wear no mask to hide behind. I know who I is, I's The Unorthodox One- and you are just two-bit midcard chumps. Redemption; congrats on your Network victory. You earned that match, and you didn't even have to cheat to do it. No really, congratulations, it's all you'll be doing for the next year, and Mummy always said it was good to keep busy. Or was that Talon? Ataxia, congratulations are in order for you as well, I hear! Congratulations for somehow managing to stay employed at Oh-Dub-Ef despite doing nothing useful in the last six months. I presumptioned.. I presumed, that having Silence around was the only thing keeping you on the roster. Oh-Dub-Ef always needs tag teams after all. But what happened to the Desecration, Ataxia.. It feel as flat and ended as abruptly as your whole career. And yet, a singles guy once more, and not a sight nor sound of Trent or Dude Job to keep you relevant, and you're still on the roster moving in to 2014. And with a Christmas Tree to fall off, too! Congrats, your official Redemption-baked celebratory cake is in the mail! Because that's the only reward you'll be getting for your Holiday Bash efforts, that World Title belt would clash horribly with that Sackboy fancy dress costume you wears.. But then, the World Title has looked fairly garish on the last few champions to wear it. Methinks it's probably because it's gotten so very girlified in 2013. Not only do we have Foxie Loxie smearing the shiny bits with her chapstick, but Eva Deli Counter was dragging it through the dirt behind her all summer! Evie Evie Evie, the last time you and Jackrabbit were tangling fifteen-foots in the sky, you were getting your shoulders pinned and relieved of some gold shininess. Well skippy, call me AnchorRabbit, cos I've got some terrible terrible news. The next time you and Jackrabbit tangle at fifteen-foots in the sky, the OUTCOME WILL BE THE SAME! I will deprive you of championship gold in 2014, Evie, and I'll do it as a favor to all of the Oh-Dub-Eff. Which brings us to ol' Eclipse. You began the girlification of the Oh-Dub-Eff World title, Eclipse. So really, it's all on you. I don't hate you, Eclipse.. honestly, I can forgive that you were accidentally a girl and you accidentally won the World Title. I can even forgives that you dropped it to Eva, though I should mention that it's difficult to forgive that. What I can't forgive is your goody-three-shoes play-act, stomping around on Zack Perry's coattails and pretending like you've renounced your violent past. The Jackrabbit spent many years in Gee-Dub-Oh and Eye-See-Dub-Eff as the hardest of the cores, battling in street fights and Ladder matches and Treasure Trail matches to boot. I came to Oh-Dub-Eff and was thrown into Pools of Blood and Altitude Os and Brawltopias because the bigwigs know that I can embrace that side when it comes down to it. Because for all the silliness, all the nonsensicals, Jackrabbit knows how to HURT PEOPLE! But you, Eclipse, you prance around preaching that your hardcore days is behind you.. then you waltz into Brawltopia, you flounce into the Christmas Tree Match, and expect to walk away unscathed? You will embrace that violent side again, Eclipse; no amount of group hugs from Zachary will change that. The question on everybody's lips though is� WHEN? Perhaps when you see these hungry 'Rabbit eyes staring at you from that platform, armed with a bauble and a handful of tinsel.. perhaps then will be your time. Because I will not let you reclaim that World Title, Eclipse.. I owe that much to Oh-Dub-Eff. You ruined this place when you let your weak insecurities get the best of you and allowed Eva to take it from you- and truth be told, you ruined this place when you took it from Kid Dynamo in the first place. Not that there was much left to ruin! Dynamo.. did you expect a hero's welcome, bucko? Did you imagine cheers and claps and giant signs saying "Welcome back Dynamo!" YOU'RE A FOOL! You walked away from Oh-Dub-Eff when it needed you most, when you and you alone could have prevented the girlification of the main event, the cootyisation of the World Championship belt. That strap is covering in kisses right now, Dynamo, and it's ALL YOUR FAULT! The 'Rabbit Fans haven't forgotten, and the 'Rabbit Fans haven't forgiven either. And for that, Kid Dynamo, you are going to take a fall from the Christmas Tree! I won't be silly enough to say that it will be courtesy of Jackrabbit Airlines, Dynamo, because honestly- me doesn't think me's the only one gunning for you at Holiday Bash. There are a lot of people in this match that want you to pay for your neglect, and for the arrogant brass neck you came back here with. Get back in line, screwball.. you don't belong in House of Pain, you belong jerking the curtain with Dusty Lawless and Mikey Austin. You may even get a win against those boys.. For too long I has waited to be free. For too long I has waited to be noticed. At Pool of Blood I showed the OWF that Jackrabbit is a force to be reckoned with when he's alone. And last week I showed the world that I's was never being carried by Talon or by Doc, when I put Lorenzy Demarco down for the count WITHOUT BREAKING A SWEAT! I suppose you all think it's hilarious to have Jackrabbit climbing a tree, don't you? I suppose you think it would be oh-so-funny to make me look ridiculous with a giant star in my hand. Leave Freedom Kid and Foxie Loxie to put on the wrestling clinic whilst the comedy acts climb a dumb giant tree. Jackrabbit is just there to fall, right? To grab the star and hand it to Jesse Williams or Eclipse? I suppose you think it'll be a riot to see The Jackrabbit face off against his former partner, Doc Holloway. Against his former multi-time Tag Champion and BESTEST FRIEND, Talon.. one more go around, right? So distracted by fighting my allies and enemies that the star will be the last thing I thinks of, right? Well you're all SADLY MISTAKEN! I can thinks of no better way to get my redemption, no better way to stick it to you, Talon, than to rob you of that star and to walk into Clash for the World Championship! Laugh it up now, you BUNCH OF HYPOCRITES! 'Cos none of you will be laughing when I take home the only present I've asked Santa Claus for this year. It's not ice-cream, it's not a stupid Present-Ball.. Take a glimpse for yourselves, though. Take a peek at a Christmas Yet-To-Come�" The quicksilver is a tree now, a tree that grows and grows until suddenly it splinters, cracking down the middle and leaving only a five-pointed star in the palm of Jackrabbit. He throws the sunshades from his eyes and looks deep into the silver, before crushing the star between both palms. Oozing quicksilver drips down his hands , but he grasps it tight and stretches it. "Come inside, ho ho ho ho ho ho ho." The quicksilver engulfs him and he is sat in a hut, snow pattering against the boarded windows. The hut is familiar, its once rotten boards now gleaming, fresh. Where once a litany of hardcore relics and redundant title belts scattered the floors, now there is emptiness, carpeted and cleaned. Where once a bench rocked on its three legs, now there is a fourth leg, stable, serene. A man sits alone in the centre. Where once there was long blonde hair, now he is shaved. Where once there were plaid blue long shorts, now there are jeans, and a long black jacket. It is Christmas Day. "So this is Christmas� And what have you done�" Jackrabbit is alone, solitary in his confinement, this place that was once a home. A place that was a refuge against those that hunted him, against the machinations of Dr. Radnik, against the schemes of Gregory Newman, against the rage of Talon. Talon was alive, then. "Another year over, and a new one just begun�" A solitary tear streams down his face, but he reaches down, clutching something to his chest, rocking it like a small baby. It's all he needs, he isn't truly alone so long as he has this. "War is over.." He is cradling the OWF World Heavyweight Championship belt, tears splashing onto its golden surface. So why does he feel so alone? Behind him there sits a giant five-pointed star, with something carved onto its yellow surface. "FATEMAKER." "If you want it.." * * * It is Christmas Day. The Jackrabbit has arrived at The Mediterranean Inn in Seattle, Washington. The receptionist, clad in a ridiculous red hat with a white bobble, has finally managed to locate his room after determining that it is not, in fact, registered under the names "Jackrabbit" "Unorthodox One" or "Future Christmas Tree Champion". She has pointed him towards room 19a, it had already been paid for, and allowed a porter to take his luggage (a blue Power Rangers backpack.) The elevator ride has been slow, lonely, sombre. The music had been swapped out for a Christmas melody. The Jackrabbit used to love normal elevator music, he could make up the words himself. He pressed the mute button on this music however. He had never enjoyed Christmas music, not since that day that door was closed in his face. He'd not liked much music at all since Talon had beaten him at Brawltopia, in fact. The corridor felt longer than usual, some kids were screaming about their new Christmas toys; a skateboard for one, which his mother wouldn't let him use inside the hotel, and an official Eclipse action figure for the other. The arm had fallen off already, though. With a sigh and a huff, The Jackrabbit finally arrives at 19a. After spending his Christmas Day on a flight to Seattle, the only thing left is to curl up on the bed and sleep. Sleep until Sunday, when it will be time to ascend a 15 foot Christmas Tree, the final dance with destiny. Swiping the keycard, he pushes the hotel door open. "MERRY CHRISTMAS, JR!" "MERRY CHRISTMAS, 'RABBIT!" "MERRY CHRISTMAS, MASTER JACKRABBIT!" "MERRY CHRISTMAS, MAN!" The Jackrabbit is immediately covered in party streamers, and draped in tinsel, as Vanilla, Stevie Guile, Gertrude K. Boom and Spyke all welcome him into the room. Decorations hang from the hotel room ceiling, an impromptu Christmas Tree has been set up in the corner. It is Christmas Day. He cannot help but laugh as Vanilla embraces him in a massive cuddle, and even willingly shakes Spyke's hand, despite the obvious tension. Stevie pats him on the back, and Gertrude looks for a kiss but The Jackrabbit is able to counter into a hug. A Christmas song by John Lennon is playing on a portable radio. 'So this is Christmas, and what have we done..' "Merry Christmases, everybodies!!" "I got you presents, JR�" Sure enough he follows her gesture, where there sit presents underneath a Christmas Tree, topped by a five-pointed star. The presents have been taped into the shape of a ball. It is Christmas Day.