[The weather outside is frightful, but inside it's so delightful. So that's where our camera is stationed. Shawn is standing beside a counter, wearing a red and green, tacky as hell cotton blend sweater. He stands with his back to the counter, stirring his glass of egg nog and vodka. He takes a swig, before glaring up at the camera with a smarmy, smug smile etched across his face.]

Shawn: Hello there, XWF-Ville! I know what you may be asking... just who is this handsome chap standing before your filthy, dirty, disgusting, bottom-feeding, trash-bag selves? Well, I'll tell you. I am the brother of a man well known in the recesses of each and every last one of your minds,,, The Chairman of this fine company, none other, than Shane .

[Shawn mosies a bit from the counter to a table, where there rests a gold rolex, given to him by his brother the Christmas before. He picks it up, rolling it around a bit in his hand, before slipping it on. He eyes it for a moment, before turning his eye back to the camera.]

Shawn: Shane, let me make this crystal clear. I still hold you as a dear brother of mine. I respect you as a man and a businessman. But there are a few things I must bring up. You let the inmates run the asylum. Over the past couple of years, men like Gilmour, Austin, Dimallisher... Sebastian Duke. Men who've blazed trails, but who've spat on the rules.

Shawn: Shane... you are the lesser of two powers. And I will rise. Make no mistake about it. This Christmas? Will be... a very, bloody, Christmas indeed. See you soon.

[Shawn takes another swig, before placing the glass down upon the counter. He holds the timepiece up to his ear, before tapping it slightly... giving a wink and a grin to the camera, before heading out. Camera fade.]