Photo: WWE
This is officially my open challenge to John Cena to fight me anytime and anywhere he wants. Sure, on paper he has pretty much every advantage you could possibly need to win a fight, but that’s not going to happen. Not only am I confident I could take him in a fight, I’m fairly certain most of you could as well. Enough beating around the bush; here are 8 reasons why John Cena should fight me and why he’ll never do it because he and I both know he would absolutely lose.
1. He still wears jean shorts.
Imagine you have millions of dollars and can buy whatever clothes you want. Then you start every morning by opening your closet door and just seeing miles and miles of denim. But not full on denim jeans. No sir. We’re talking about jean shorts as far as the eye can see. If I’m fighting Cena I’m wearing sweatpants. Jean shorts have such limited mobility so I’ve already evened the playing field. Now we’re basically the same speed which means I can hit him and by the time he denims around to see what happened I’m already hitting him again from the other side. Plus he has belt loops! I’m rocking no belt loops, which means he has nothing to grab onto. I’d grab him by those loops and toss him out like everyone did with their jean shorts after 2003.
2. My finishing move doesn’t require me to wave my hand in front of my face
Guess what John? I can see you. I don’t know what 4-year-old told you that putting your hand in front of your face makes you disappear, but while you’re waving at yourself I’m gonna be grabbing a chair to break over your back. Plus I’m not just going to lie there while you run back and forth to do your dumb stumbling punch finisher. If I can render your finisher useless by moving six inches to the right, it’s not very good.
3. I don’t have to worry about impressing children and keeping them as fans.
It’s really nice that he gives fans high fives on the way to the ring and hands them his little Limp Bizkit Fred Durst armband, but I don’t need to waste my time on that. Plus I’m not even waiting for your intro music to end. You think you’re gonna walk out and dance around while your pyro goes off? Nope. I’m either running out and hitting you on your way to the ring, or I’m getting in there early and pointing the pyro at you so it shoots directly into your face so you look like Aaron Eckhart at the end of The Dark Knight. Sorry kids, I gotta look out for what’s best for me.
4. I’ve never started a fight by doing a freestyle rap while dressed like a cartoon cereal mascot.
Sure he doesn’t do this anymore, but remember when he used to come out and do some corny freestyle about his opponent like a Catholic church rap battle? While he’s trying to figure out a good word that rhymes with “choke slam” I’ll be pulling a Tonya Harding on his kneecap and moonwalking out with a win before he even has time to take off his idiotic outfit that looks like the set of Can’t Hardly Wait threw up on him.
5. I wasn’t in The Marine.
This is one of the ultimate Cena weaknesses I would exploit. If we got into a war of words, no matter what he said about me could instantly be countered with, “Well at least I wasn’t in The Marine. It’s so devastating there’s literally nothing you can do to recover. Like this:
Cena: I made love to your mom.
Me: You know that terrible movie The Marine? You starred in it lol.
Boom. Done. Roasted.
6. A lot less people yell “YOU SUCK” when I walk into a room.
If you’ve ever been to a live WWE event you’ve no doubt heard a sea of people singing his theme song but with the words “John Cena sucks.” This has never once happened to me. Are there always a few people that yell about how much I suck when I walk into any given room at any given time? Sure. But thousands? Highly unlikely.
7. My strategy for a No Disqualification Match is much smarter.
Cena has been in several matches where there is no disqualifications, which means you can do anything you want to win. This idiot just hits his opponent with chairs or tosses them through a table WHICH ONLY CUSHIONS YOUR FALL, BY THE WAY. Not me. I’m hitting him with something, but it’s not a DDT. It’s a Honda Civic. As soon as he comes out I’m driving straight down the ramp and crashing into him like Dave Matthews in the ’90s. He’ll be the house to my drunken Billy Joel. Good luck kicking out of that one before a three count, Johnny.
8. Seriously, I had nothing whatsoever to do with The Marine.
I can’t stress this point enough. That movie was so bad and he’s on the cover of it, while I had no part of it at all. Looks like I found your Achilles heel, pal.
