Just a few hours ago, our freshman protagonist woke up and walked outside from his room in Conway. He would see cars pass him, one by one, on High Street, zooming down the street. "How gorgeous are those birds?" he thought to himself. Nothing would stop him from enjoying the day.

"Could each day this week be this glorious?" thought our hero. Ever so briskly, he stepped onto D-walk, strolling towards the HUB. Nice weather, a positive attitude, and now a refreshing meal would complete his morning. And our hero's name is the first letters of each of the sentences so far.

By the time our hero had realized the story had progressed to this point, he heard no air horns or gangsta-rap intro. Then, the sudden reality hit him:

My name isn't John Cena!

But it was true. Jeffery was his name, and he could be seen very easily in his khakis, Vineyard Vines polo, and Sperrys.

"Have I been living a lie all this time?" Jeffery asked himself. "If my name isn't John Cena, who would take on the Undertaker in a chutes and ladders match at this Sunday's WWE SuperSlam?"

Who knows, Jeffery, who knows? You can't see John Cena, so he could be Officer Mann, my roommate, or Doris who just swiped my card letting me into the Dining Hall.