The guy had one of those faces where you just knew he was an asshole.  The fact that he had his arm around Jackson’s ex didn’t help either. 

Jackson pushed his way across the bar and shoved the Canadian in the shoulder.

“What?” the Canadian snapped. 

“You….that….”  Jackson was trying to form a straight thought but that last shot of Jagermeister was clogging his brain.  He finally managed to blurt, “I don’t like you!” 

“Fantastic.”  The Canadian said, drank his beer and squeezed Jackson’s ex even tighter. 

Jackson shoved him again.  “I really don’t like you!” 

“So what’re you gonna do about it, runt?” the Canadian snarled. 

“I’m gonna fight you!  Eh!”    

Twenty seconds later there was a maple leaf shaped gash in the middle of Jackson’s forehead and his friends were hauling him into the street.  “I’m gonna pound his ass all the way back to Juneau!”  Jackson screamed before passing out. 

His friends considered taking him to the hospital but remembered it was dollar shot night at the bar across the street.  They left Jackson in the parking lot figuring he would find his way home.

Around three in the morning, Jackson was found by a pair of girls who were a part of the same group as the Canadian.  They saw the maple leaf mark in his forehead and assumed he was the Canadian equivilent of Harry Potter. 

The next morning Jackson woke up in Montreal with a splitting headache and a gang of devoted followers.  Within a year thousands of people from across the world were coming to him to learn from his wisdom and hear tales of his battles against the evil moose sorcerer.  By the end of the decade his followers had reached the millions.   

And that is the story of how Jackson McDonald, a boy who didn’t even know what country Juneau was in, became the first and last wizard king of Canada.