Static waved across the screen for several seconds. It flickered and jumped, emitting an altogether unpleasant sound. It suddenly fell away, revealing an outstretched arm. It blocked the screen, obscuring the view of its owner. Just as swiftly as it appeared on camera, it fell away, revealing a disheveled Shawn Spencer.

He moved back from the camera to sit in a chair, not far from the lens, and for a few seconds, just stared. He breathed deeply, looked down for a moment, and then lifted his head to stare directly into the camera once more, a fiery anger in his eyes.

And then he spoke.

"My name is-"� he paused, inhaling roughly, and then rephrased, "was Shawn Spencer. I liked beach front properties, sand in my toes, pineapple smoothies, and barging in on police investigations where I was needed but not wanted. You knew that Shawn Spencer. Forget about him. He no longer exists. I'm the one you need to worry about now.

"This is the game you all know, but in a way you've never seen before. This time, Detectives, it's not my job to figure out all the answers-- it's yours. And if you can't..."� He paused once more, breathing another ragged breath. "If you can't, you'll have the best seats in the house to watch the world as you know it burn to the ground.

"Your first clue should come to you shortly. I suggest you prepare yourselves. This is a high-stakes match. I would know-- I designed it."�

The screen lingered on him for a brief moment. Then it returned to lines of static before abruptly turning a bright blue.