This is an extremely random story, which tells a little-know tale of a fantasy world in which Cena and Edge duke it out to become the mightiest in the land of the WWE. (P.S. Don't ask about the crappy title, I just didn't have anything better.)
Yes, this is story having a lot to do with Twinkies. John Cena, the king of the land, orders his loyal (well…sort of) subjects, The Game, HBK, Maria, and Stratus, to steal Edge's Twinkies. Problem is, The Game had never heard of or even seen Twinkies before, and he comes to the very wrong conclusion as to what they are…
Twinkie Mayhem
Once upon a time, in a land far, far away known as World Wrestling Entertainment, or WWE, there was a King named John Cena. He lived in a magnificent castle with his loyal—well, sort of—subjects, Triple H, Shawn Michaels, Maria, and Trish Stratus, and his archrival, the Sorcerer Edge.
King Cena and Sorcerer Edge had, since their meeting many, many years ago, feuded constantly and relentlessly with each other. It was a fight between them—a challenge to see who could construct the most devious plot and carry it out. And it was Cena's most recent plot, the most devious either had ever fathomed, that is the focus of this tale.
The plot was so devious, so magnificently wicked; Cena's subjects could not believe he had thought of it. Cena himself had barely been able to contain his excitement when he carried out this order to his subjects, but, being the good King he was, managed to keep his composure—barely.
It was well known that Edge had a particular fondness for Twinkies. He had a whole trove of them, which he kept safely locked up in his quarters…'safely locked up' meaning stacked up in a colossal pile beside his bed. Cena had ordered H, Michaels, Maria, and Stratus to break into Edge's quarters while he was sleeping, and steal all the Twinkies. They were to bring the Twinkies back to Cena, and they all would eat them. Every single one.
Cena could hardly believe his own cunning.
Thus, Triple H, Maria, Shawn Michaels, and Trish Stratus stood huddled outside the door to Edge's quarters, preparing themselves to break in and snatch the Twinkies, and deliver them to King Cena.
However, Triple H just didn't seem able to comprehend this.
"So…what are we doing here again?" He questioned once more in a bored voice, leaning against the wall next to the door, gazing at it uninterestedly.
Shawn turned to him, releasing an exasperated sigh. "I told you the last fifty trillion times, Hunter! We are here to steal Edge's Twinkies!"
"Actually, the last fifty quadrillion times." Maria corrected, holding up one finger matter-of-factly.
Shawn looked around at her, his eyes narrowing. "How would you know?" He challenged.
Maria grinned. "I counted." She replied proudly.
Shawn blinked. "Counted?" He echoed, considering Maria skeptically.
"Yes." Maria confirmed, still grinning proudly.
"You…counted?"
"Yes."
"You counted?"
Maria's smile faltered slightly. "Yes…"
"You counted?"
Maria's eyebrow twitched. "Yes!"
"You counted?"
"YES!" She shouted, rapidly losing patience.
Shawn looked utterly shocked. "YOU COUNTED?" He cried, in complete disbelief.
By now, Triple H had had enough. "Yes!" He snapped, "She counted! So shut up already!"
Shawn gasped. "Trish! He said the S-H word!" He cried, pointing accusingly at H.
Trish turned to glare at her three companions, putting a finger to her lips. "Quiet!" She hissed, silencing them abruptly. "You'll wake him!"
"Oh please, you could put a horn in his ear and blow it as loud as you can, whileputting his bed on fire, poking him in the ass with a freshly sharpened sword, and pelting him with rocks at the same time, and he still wouldn't wake up." Triple H, who had some experience with this, muttered. He had, in fact, done exactly that a few months ago, but that's another story. And not a very pleasant one, either.
Maria looked thoughtfully at the door. "What do you think he dreams about?"
As if on cue, Edge's voice suddenly erupted behind the door, loud and venomous: "CENA!" It was immediately followed by an equally loud snore, and the sound of the bed creaking, telling them Edge was still asleep.
"King Cena." Trish replied.
"What about King Cena, do you think?" Maria questioned, curious.
"I'LL KILL YOU!" Edge shouted again in his sleep, the shout ensued immediately by another loud snore.
"Killing him." Trish said.
"Oh."
There was silence for a few moments, broken only by Edge's occasional ear-splitting snores, when Triple H, sounding bored as ever, and a little confused, spoke up slowly: "So…we're here to steal his…Twinkies?"
"YES!" Shawn, who had had just about enough of this, snapped, pitching his voice as low as he could. Meaning, of course, that he shouted it loud enough to earn him another annoyed shushing from Trish.
Triple H blinked. "…He has more than one?"
"Well, duh! He's got like five hundred million, billion, quadrillion…at least!"
"…"
Maria frowned. "If he has that many, how are we supposed to carry them?"
Triple H jumped, and his eyes widened. "WE HAVE TO CARRY THEM?" He cried, horrified.
Trish shook her head impatiently. "No, you fools, I'll use my magic to transport them and us to King Cena."
Triple H relaxed, releasing a relieved sigh. Then what Trish had said registered completely in his brain, and he blinked. "Uh…King Cena wants them?" He inquired uncertainly, not sure he wanted the answer.
"Well, duh!"
"…"
"OK…" Trish gripped the doorknob. "MOVE!"
Trish and Shawn threw themselves against the door as hard as they could…which was rather unnecessary, considering the door was unlocked and open a crack already.
Thus, the door swung violently open, breaking out of its hinges and slamming into the wall. Upon collision with the wall, the door snapped cleanly in half, and crumbled to the floor, where it lay in a metal heap. Shawn and Trish, meanwhile, stumbled into the room, and only just managed to keep from crashing right into the sleeping Edge.
Maria and Triple H stepped in, Maria giggling, H rolling his eyes. "Guys," He said, pointed to the door, "It was already open."
Trish and Shawn exchanged glances. "We knew that." They said in unison, their faces flushing with embarrassment.
Triple H rolled his eyes to the ceiling, and released an exasperated sigh. "I'm sure you did." He said sarcastically.
"Hey! His Twinkies!" Maria cried suddenly, pointing to a pile of yellow cream-filled cakes at the foot of the bed.
Triple H started. "Those are his Twinkies?" He cried, gaping at the pile.
"YES! That's what we're here for!" Shawn recounted rather loudly, gazing excitedly at the pile.
"So…right now…I…am looking at…Edge's…Twinkies?"
"You sure are!" Maria confirmed cheerfully.
"…" Triple H turned away, feeling sick, and covered his eyes.
"Alright," Trish spoke up, sounding annoyed and irritated. "Let's get these to King Cena, before you three idiots wake him up."
Edge's response was another deafening snore.
IN THE THRONE ROOM
"Mmmmm…" Cena snatched another Twinkie, and bit into it, savoring the taste of the treats. "Vanilla…"
"It's…vanilla…flavored…?" Triple H, more than a little disturbed now, questioned, taking a step back, away from the pile of Twinkies and the four who were eating them.
"Yep!" Cena replied cheerfully, "And tasty, too!"
"…"
Shawn looked thoughtfully down at the half-eaten Twinkie in his hand. "Hey…why do you think they're yellow?"
Maria frowned, and looked down at her own Twinkie. "Dunno…" She gasped suddenly. "Maybe they're infected!" She suggested, looking alarmed.
Triple H gagged, disgusted. The other's ignored him, however—they were too absorbed in gazing uncertainly at their Twinkies, contemplating Maria's suggestion.
"Ah, who cares? They're too tasty to give up!" Cena said finally, and resumed devouring all the Twinkies he could get his hands on. Maria, Shawn, and Trish immediately followed suit.
Shawn looked around, and saw Triple H standing by the wall, his hands over his mouth, regarding them with distaste. "Hey, man, want some?" Shawn questioned, offering his friend a Twinkie fresh from the pile.
Triple H shook his head, resisting the urge to gag once more. "I'll pass, dude."
"Suit yourself!" Maria chimed, and snatched the Twinkie from Shawn's grasp.
"HEY—" Shawn began to shout, but he was interrupted by a new voice.
"King John Cena?"
The five looked around, to see one of Cena's guards, Randy Orton, standing in the doorway, looking uncertain.
"Yes, Orton?" Cena said curtly, not happy to be interrupted in the middle of such a great meal.
"Uh…Edge is here to see you, sir."
Cena's eyes flashed. "Edge…" He seethed, his voice thick with abhorrence. "I should have known he would come." He glared at Orton. "Where is he?"
"CENA!" Came a loud, irate voice from behind the door at the other end of the corridor.
"Right out there, sir..." Orton gestured to the corridor behind him.
"Let him in." Cena got to his feet, throwing off his cape and hat.
"Yes, si—" But he never got a chance to finish, because Edge demolished the wall on the other side of the corridor, and stepped through the massive hole, brandishing his 'Rated-R Staff', looking pissed beyond comparison.
He stomped his way to the throne, blasting the wall with balls of energy, leaving small craters in the stone wall. He stepped into the room, fuming, and violently pushed Orton aside, never taking his eyes off Cena. And so, the poor legend-killer, who only got two and a half lines in this story, was flung all the way across the room, and collided hard with the wall. He fell to the ground in a heap of swords and armor.
"SOMEONE TOOK MY TWIN—" Edge stopped abruptly when he saw his Twinkie's, in a pile less than half the size it had been when he had gone to sleep, and the half-eaten Twinkies in their hands. "—kies." He finished, pausing for a second afterward, wondering how the hell they could have gotten his Twinkies out of his room.
"Someone took your…Twinkies?" Triple H asked, his brow creasing, not sure he wanted the answer.
"YES!" Edge bellowed, his eyes never leaving Cena, who was now smirking. "AND IT WAS YOU!"
Triple H blinked. "You mean…all of those," He gestured to the shrinking Twinkie pile. "Really are your…Twinkies…?"
"YES!"
"…"
"YOU DARE TAKE MY TWINKIES!"
Cena cackled. "Oh yes, Edge, we dare take your Twinkies. Only now, they're my Twinkies!"
Edge was now shaking in anger, his fists clenching, and Cena fancied he could see steam coming from his ears. "Why you son of a—"
"Edge!" Trish scolded.
"Son of a edge?" Shawn said uncertainly, "King Cena's a son of a edge?"
Edge shook his head. "And just when I thought you couldn't get any stupider, Michaels."
"Hey!" Shawn jumped to his feet, glaring at Edge. "Are you questioning my intellect?"
"Yeah, ass-wipe, I am! You're…'intellect'," He accented 'intellect' with air quotes, "Sucks. Almost as much as your wrestling."
"Excuse me? You're good, man, but I'm better."
Edge snarled. "Are questioning my wrestling credentials, asshole?"
"Hey, I got wrestling credentials, too, ya know! I've kicked so many asses it's not even funny!"
"True," Cena granted, "But on the other hand, you probably don't even know how to spell credentials."
"Hey!" Shawn turned to him, looking both angry and surprised. "You're supposed to be on my side!"
"I'm the king!" Cena retorted, "I don't take any sides!"
"Yes you do!" Shawn insisted, stomping the floor in a very childish, rebellious manner. "The side of your allies! But you took his side instead!" He pointed an angry finger Edge's direction, almost pouting now.
"I did no such thing!"
"You did too!"
"Nuh-uh!"
"Huh-uh!"
"Nuh-uh!"
"Huh-uh!"
"Nuh-uh!"
"Huh-uh!"
"Nuh-uh!"
"Huh-uh!"
Cena stood abruptly, his eyes narrowing dangerously. "Are you calling me a liar, Michaels?" He questioned in a deadly calm voice.
Shawn took a cautious step back, his eyes widening a little. "I didn't say that."
"You were thinking it…"
Shawn gasped, his face all eyes. "Holy cheesy mother of the monkey of the demented pineapple's bodyguard tax auditor! When did you learn to read minds?"
"YOU BRAT!" Cena bellowed, his face twisting in a snarl, his fists clenching so the knuckles were white. "YOU CALL YOUR KING A LIAR, YOU PAY THE CONSEQUENCES!"
"BRING IT ON!" Shawn invited, stuffing the last of his Twinkie into his mouth—"My BABY!" Edge cried, horrified—and leapt to his feet, motioning with his hands for Cena to come at him.
"Dude, it is SO branged…brunged…BROUGHT!"
"Oh…bad grammar. That's sure to scare him…" Trish said sarcastically, rolling her eyes to the ceiling.
"Um..." Edge spoke up, a trifle uncertainly. "Can I have my Twinkies back, please?"
Shawn and Cena rounded on him. "NO!"
Edge raised his hands and backed away from their burning gazes. "OK, then…"
"So you really want to keep his…er…Twinkies?" Man, that gag reflex just didn't want to quit.
"YES!"
"…"
"YOU'RE A TRAITOR!" Shawn shouted at Cena, turning to glare at the king.
"I AM NOT! YOU ARE JUST AN IDIOT!"
"EXCUSE ME?"
"YOU HEARD ME! OR DOES YOUR STUIDITY MAKE YOU DEAF, TOO?"
"WHY YOU—"
"Uh…sorry to interrupt, but…" Edge shifted uncomfortably.
"WHAT?" Shawn and Cena shouted, whirling in his direction.
Edge flinched. "Uh…could I possibly…have my Twinkies back?"
"NO!" Everyone shouted simultaneously.
"OK."
"Um…why do you want them back?" Triple H enquired, regretting it as soon as it was asked.
"Because they're mine!" Edge snapped at him, turning to glare at Triple H.
"But…don't you have…others…?"
"Well, one more, but it's not as tasty as all these. Besides, it's brown. Chocolate flavor, I suppose." Edge looked thoughtfully at the pile of Twinkies beside the throne.
"…" That was all it took. Poor Triple H promptly fainted. Edge blinked, and stared down at him, slightly bewildered.
Almost instantly after Triple H fell unconscious, a chicken, ruffling its white feathers, clucked its way into the room, pecking at the floor in search of food.
Shawn and Cena both fell quiet, turning in the new arrival's direction. Edge blinked down at it as it passed him, clucking and japing at the stone floor with its peak. Maria and Trish looked around, also blinking. Bewildered, all four stared at the chicken as it passed them, making its way to Cena.
When it reached the perplexed king, it halted, lifting its head, and Cena found himself gazing right into the eyes of the bird.
The chicken clucked once, and suddenly exploded.
The four who were still conscious blinked once more at the crated sooted with ash which had taken place of the wandering chicken, unable to fully comprehend what they had just seen.
They stared at the crater for a few moments, before the entire world suddenly, without warning, followed suit of the chicken, and exploded in one massive detonation.
AND EVERYONE DIDN'T LIVE HAPPILY EVER AFTER!
THE END
So...what do you think? Was that random or what? XD
OK, so here's the part where I beg pathetically and totally shamelessly for reviews. Was it good? Funny, even? Or just plain stupid? Personally, I think the latter...but...what do you think? Should I delete this story and throw it in the trashcan, or what? If you're considerate, you'll tell me. -impossibly huge teary puppy eyes-