Boiling pasta at 1 in the morning because life is still happening
Join Date: Apr 2010
Location: Dunfermline, Scotland
Re: The Endless Storyline
Jericho couldn't stop being pleased with himself for disposing of Cena. Literally, he couldn't. As soon as Jericho had left the lab, and locked the door to his office behind him, he immediately was bestowed with a shining light of relief. He was gone. Forever. The figure that had been haunting his thought process for days on end had been well and truly banished. The smiley faces were Chris' attempts to take his mind off the intensity of the situation.
Jericho sat there for hours, drawing face after face, trying to reflect all of his positive feelings onto the window. Further and further down the side of this glass wall did his works of art begin to get more larger and detailed. He had even begun to illustrate the happy faces of his past co-workers; Jeff Hardy, Kevin Nash, Randy Orton...
Finding a new canvas to work on, Jericho thought aloud "This next guy...hmmm...Aha! My old, wonderful, influential teacher Lance, babyy. Now if remember everything correctly, there was the square head, the thick jaw, the frootest buzzcut ever and...the...dog...tag..."
At this point, Chris realised what it was he was really drawing. His look of plastic joy slowly turned to that of worry. He punched the window hard in frustration. Cena wouldn't go away. A few more punches, and the drops of condensation soon started to fall down from the vibration. However, this simply made the face of Cena's eyebrows shape into a frown. Jericho's own creation was staring daggers into him.
Chris fell to the floor, and backed up against the hard wall of his seemingly now-claustrophobic office. The cupped his head in his hands, and began to cry solemnly. It was well past midnight, and all employees had head home (had Chris not told his secretary to take the day off, he would be trapped in a cushioned room by now); all that remained in the whole building was him and this demonic illustration of Johnathan Cena, staring, judging.
Chris lay there, tears streaming down his face, his knees wrapped up his arms, looking at this work of art to no end. Why wouldn't this entity leave him alone? Every possible remnant of John had been reduced to a pile of dust. As he contemplated further, he slowly started to stare equally as deep into the reflection of himself in the window.
Looking far into the face of the devil himself, Jericho...
(TL;DR: Jericho tries to get Cena off his mind with happy faces, but worsens the situation by painting a picture of Cena.)