The Long Road To Warfare

Cornfield... cornfield... cornfield... cornfield... It is early Sunday morning, aka the morning before Warfare, and John Cena is traveling to Milwaukee, Wisconsin for the show. And yes while Illinois has a lot of things going for it, the scenery is pretty...what's the word...stagnant. It's all cornfields, white lines and blacktop. With a loud sigh Cena silently wishes yet again that the CD player/radio was working in the car. “That's what you get for sleeping in while all the other wrestlers are getting the good rental cars,” Cena thinks to himself. By the time Cena had arrived at the rental car lot all of the cars were taken except for an old Oldsmobile with questionable engine capabilities, no muffler, no tunes, and in a color shade that could only be described as a combination of rust and puke green with a somewhat startling blood red splatter pattern across the front bumper. Looking dismally around the inside of the car Cena can't help but feel uncomfortable, literally and figuratively.

Cena: (shaking his head nervously) Someone probably died in here.

Turning back to face the road John can't help but feel a smile cross his face as he stares out at the seemingly endless road ahead of him. He had his first televised match against AJ Styles on Aggression and he won. Exactly the way he said he would. Quickly and forcefully. And now at Warfare, only his second televised event since joining the EBWF, John Cena will be facing Alex Shelley and Edge for the X-Division Title. Even though he has had his fair share of Championship matches and Championships Cena can't help but feel excited about this match. He said he would get his shot at gold quickly and he was right. And now was the time to back up his words, something John Cena has never had a problem doing.

Cena: (Thinking to himself as he drives) John Cena, X-Division Champion. I like the sound of that.



Cena has done his research yet again because in John's eyes the best way to beat your opponent is to know your opponent. To get inside the man's head. To know the way he moves. To know the way he thinks. To look for the holes in his opponents' game, and to take advantage of those mistakes. He knows that Alex Shelley has had his fair share of success in the EBWF. A World Title holder, Intercontinental Champion, Television Champion, a one time EBWF Wrestler of the Year, and of course the current X-Division Champion.

Cena: (Talking out loud to himself) All accomplishments I'm sure he will be more than eager to bring up. Again, and again, and again.

Cena rolls his eyes and shakes his head. With no CD player, radio, or even interesting scenery to look at John can't stop all the thoughts from rolling through his head.

Cena: (Thinking silently) Alex Shelley might have done all of those things but he hasn't faced me yet. And in that ring, the past won't matter. In that ring it is only about the present. Alex Shelley is going to lose that X-Division Championship tomorrow night. I'm going for that STF and it is going to be sweet to hear Alex Shelley's fingers tapping that mat in desperation. Just as I made and example out of AJ Styles I will make an example out of Alex Shelley. An example that says no one is safe from John Cena. An example that says even Champions are not invincible when it comes to John Cena ass-kickings.

But then there's Edge. A guy who really hasn't done anything since joining the EBWF. No titles to his name. No accolades or achievements. Practically a nobody. Yeah, people know who he is but they also know who Paris Hilton is. In other words, someone who is famous for doing absolutely nothing. Edge is like the William Hung of the wrestling world. Hung couldn't sing a note on key if he was kicked in the balls but he got a CD deal. And Edge couldn't wrestle his way to a victory any more than a legless man could win a dance competition. And yet here Edge is in the EBWF. A federation known for having only the best of the best. (Speaking out loud) Somehow Edgewise must have slipped under the radar.

BAM!

All of a sudden at the loud gunshot-like sound the rental car jerks hard to the left. Cena struggles to regain control of the vehicle, all of his thoughts suddenly forgotten as he over-corrects and the car swerves back to the right. The rusty puke green with a hint of blood splatter red Oldsmobile runs off the road and slams into yet another cornfield. Cena slams his foot on the break as the car's momentum continues to carry it deeper into the field thick with corn stalks and with a sudden jolt the car finally comes to a stop sending Cena forcefully forward, with only his seatbelt preventing him from hurling through the windshield with its sharp, flesh tearing glass. For a few moments Cena sits, panting, trying to figure out what happened. Looking around him he sighs loudly and nods.

Cena: Well that could have been really bad.

No sooner was this out of his mouth than the oh-so-reliable Oldsmobile's front airbag decides to deploy, enveloping Cena's face and upper torso harshly in it's billowy form. Cena, frustrated, pushes at it, trying to unbuckle his seat belt and get out of the car. After several moments, and as the air bag starts to decompress, Cena is able to get his door open, having to push hard against the stalks of corn flush with the car door. Cena looks about, trying to get his bearings, and then looks down at the front tire on the driver's side. Sure enough the tire is flat. Looking more closely Cena sees his tire has been blown by a large shard of glass with the words “Drive Safely” clearly printed on it. Blinking in disbelief Cena shakes his head and lets out a groan. Pushing against the cornstalks Cena makes his way to the car's trunk and opens it, looking for the spare tire. To Cena's dismay though all the trunk contains is some dirty old gloves, some rope, and a dirty shovel. As Cena pulls out the last of these items dubiously he notices that the blood-red splatter pattern motif has continued. Inside the trunk. And in a much larger quantity...

Cena throws the items back in the trunk and slams the lid.

Cena: (Looking left and right with upraised eyebrows, his mind racing) OOOKAY...Well... Hmmm... This is a little creepy. And disturbing. All “Children of the Corn” like. If I see a group of kids coming towards me I might just have to scream like a girl....

Cena looks up at the sun, now directly overhead. It has gotten very humid in the summer heat. Cena stands motionless for a moment longer and then nodding seems to have come up with a plan of action.

Cena: I guess I better start walking. It's still a long way to Milwaukee and aside from the fact that I am going to win that X-Division Championship tomorrow night I was really looking forward to having some Wisconsin cheese curds.

With a final nod, as if to give himself some inner strength, Cena forces open the passenger side door of the car with a loud creak, and looking at the 2 bags before him, chooses to grab the lighter, smaller duffel. It contains the bare minimum-just his wrestling gear. Hoisting the bag over his shoulder Cena turns and starts making his way back towards the road. It was pretty desolate before. “Eventually another vehicle has to pass,” Cena thinks hopefully. Otherwise he has a long, long walk ahead of him.