Hello again everyone! Another one-shot, don't give me that look I am on a kick and plot bunnies keep popping up. This one is for all you Cena-centrics out there! Keep an eye out for my other one-shots too because I'm on fire, no I'm literally on fire! AHHH!
While I try and solve this predicament, I don't own WWE.
Read On…
(XXXX)
We're Lost
"Why didn't we just stop for directions?" muttered an annoyed John Cena who was now glaring at Randy Orton who was driving his 2010 Chevy Malibu. The two wrestlers were on their way to an event in Syracuse, New York for the weekend.
"I told you we should have flew but did you listen no, 'Randy think of it, it will be like old times before the draft' and I was the idiot that listened." Randy retorted to the leader of the Cenation.
Over the past few months things had changed increasing since Randy had been on Smackdown and John on Raw. John had decided that the two needed some male bonding time.
"I think we passed that stupid Verizon Wireless sign five times already, Randy!" John yelled at RKO who was still driving the car. "Why don't we just stop for directions at that gas station over there?"
"Ugh, fine if it will make you shut up then I will stop for directions." An irritated Randy Orton said pulling off the highway into that of the BP parking lot. The two wrestlers exited the car and walked into the gas station.
It was an average place with convenience goods. The place for two in the afternoon was pretty dead. But the boys didn't mind the less chance of them being attacked by a crazed fan the better. But once that thought had crossed through there wrestling minds it was too late.
"Umm… hi miss you wouldn't happen to know how to get from here to Syracuse would you?" questioned John as Randy walked around the store looking for food. John had decided they didn't need snacks on this trip of theirs but Randy was the one that had decided they weren't stopping unless it was a life or death emergency. But that proved dumb because you could hear RKO's stomach growling to states over.
The young convenience store clerk turned around. Instantly her eyes lit up, that was when John knew things had taken a turn for the worst.
"YOU ARE JOHN CENA!" The clerk shrieked at the top of her lungs and without missing a beat the young woman through herself over the counter and in front of John. "OH MY GOD, OH MY GOD, OH MY GOD, YOU HAVE NO IDEA HOW THRILLED I AM TO SAY THIS BUT HOW CAN I HELP YOU?"
John snorted. That last part of the statement seemed to have underlying sexual tones in it.
"While first off I'm married and second I need directions to get to New York." John said calmly as the girl continued to stare.
Randy watched on in astonishment. The girl was something else but John always did have a way with the ladies it was incredible. The clerk had yet to spot Randy and he was going to keep it that way. He slowly snuck out the back dorm leaving John to deal with the crazed fan girl.
Randy sat in the car and waited and waited and waited and waited for the favorite Cena but John hadn't shown up in nearly forty-five minutes.
"Where the hell could he be?" questioned the Viper glancing at the dashboard clock. But when the words left his mouth did he John running for his life from a group of young women.
"Start the car, Start the damn car!" John was shouting as he swung open the door and hoped in just to escape the clutches of the maniac female fans of his. Randy peeled out of the gas station without the slightest idea of how that had happened.
"Do I even want to know what happened? I mean I left you and you were getting directions and then you were being chased by fan girls." Randy asked with a chuckle. "Did you at least get the directions?"
John nodded his head.
"Just know that we are never ever stopping again, no matter how lost we get. I don't care if we go to Canada instead of New York! I say we invest in a GPS because I am never asking for directions again!" The CeNation Commander in Chief screamed.
The boys did reach Syracuse that weekend but as soon as John could he ran to the closest possible retail establishment and found a GPS. He swore on his grave he would never ask for directions again.
(XXXX)
Oh good I put out the fire… phew!
Reviews, anyone, anyone?