A clowns nose rolls onto the ground by a passing Isaiah Kings feet. Without a thought he punts it forward, sending it flying into the back of Ms Mysts head. Isaiah continues to walk to his locker room, before stopping, uncertain where exactly it was. He does this pondering with a foot on the unconscious Mysts body. 

1...

2...

The referee slides in like this is somehow a real thing.
1…
Nothing.
Jenny Myst is out. Dead to the world. Clown nose somewhere under catering table rules.
2…
Suddenly—
Her arm lazily flops up.
Not a dramatic kickout. Not a burst of adrenaline.
Just… a bored, irritated swat, like she’s brushing away a fly in her sleep.
Her shoulder rolls barely off the mat.
The ref freezes.
Isaiah looks down. Looks at the ref. Looks back at Jenny.


Jenny’s eyes don’t even open.


She mumbles into the canvas, mic’d just enough to catch it:


“……I don’t even work here.”


The bell rings anyway.


KICKOUT.


The crowd loses it.

Jenny finally rolls onto her side, adjusts BOTH the WGWF X-Division and the the 24/7 X-Treme title across her waist while still unconscious, and curls around it protectively.
The clown nose rolls back and gently bumps her forehead.
Her hand snaps out again—WHACK—sending it flying.
She never wakes up.
Somewhere backstage, officials are arguing whether this counts.
It does.
Because somehow—
Jenny Myst is still champion.

Did I mention she kicks out?    

JENNY MYST:

“Hey—real quick.”

Jenny tilts her head, genuinely curious now.

JENNY MYST:
“Why are you even trying to win this title… when you’ve spent seven months pretending your tag titles don’t exist?”

The crowd oooohs.
She takes a step closer, voice sharp but casual, like she’s pointing out a typo.

JENNY MYST:
“You and Seb barely defend them. You don’t respect them. And now you’re feuding over who gets to hold them—not who has to show up and actually work.”

She smirks.

JENNY MYST:
“Neither of you wants to defend. You just want custody.”

JENNY MYST:
“So miss me with the X-Treme pin attempts until you figure out how to be champions of the belts you already neglect.”

She taps her title once.

JENNY MYST:
“This one? I don’t forget it exists.”

Jenny turns her back on him, dismissing him completely as officials swarm the scene—





Lazy attempt bro, try harder.