Explained: THAT Firefly Fun House Match From WrestleMania 36

He was Wade Barrett and the chairs that rained down upon him. He was Baron Corbin, whom a boorish Cena made an example of at SummerSlam 2017. He was The Miz, whom John Cena seemed to relish hovering above for virtually his entire career. He was Alex Riley, a guy Cena looked at, from day one, like he was garbage - because he was a threat. Who, other than Cena himself, would have excelled in the impossible environment of NXT's gameshow days?

Huskus the Pig Boy was every homophobic joke Cena hurled at Randy Orton. He was Damien Sandow getting his face smashed in by Cena's magically recovered shovel arms. He was Ted DiBiase, Jr., months away from his first big WrestleMania match, getting choked into unconsciousness like the lowliest and palest of WWF Wrestling Challenge jobbers. He was every rotten, counterproductive punchline aimed at every performer he had an underwhelming programme with as a result. He was the Bray Wyatt of 2014, and the Bray Wyatt of 2014 was just like all but a few select real main event talents: a joke to crack, a career to sabotage. Bray Wyatt was only ever Husky Harris in a mask, Cena claimed in the build.

John Cena was only ever John Cena.

I always thought the "Bray Wyatt changes people" thing was complete, generous bullsh*t. And it was, realistically, because Braun Strowman danced after his interaction with the Fiend. John Cena, however, almost has to change after this stunning legacy assassination.

But into what? A heel?

Or a babyface?