July 21st, 2024

Anna stuck a pinky in her ear, as if it would dislodge the small bit of water that had found its way inside. She had always had bad luck with hotel bathrooms, so maybe even Vatican City’s was bound to disappoint. A girl could dream for the grace of God, couldn’t she?

Wiping away the fog from the mirror with an almost oily hand, her own face met her clearly, towel carefully wrapped around her body, folded securely just under her neck. Softly, muted by the closed bathroom door that seperated her and her partner, the sounds of intense professional wrestling reverberated from outside. That’s why they had shown up in Vatican City to begin with. Darcy had a few things she needed to talk through with her ex and it went… well, about as nicely as Anna suspected. Still, they had made sure to watch the event live from the hotel room, watching Ned Kaye narrowly secure some trick briefcase that entitled him to a championship match whenever he pleased. Anna had suspected Darcy would switch it off following Ned’s match, but it seemed to continue onwards as background noise. She dragged a toothbrush across the inside of her mouth, spitting out some foamy saliva before finally returning to the main room.

The television was cranked up a bit, the over-the-top commentators doing their best impression of trying to be comprehensible in a wind tunnel. Anna rested a hand on her hip, watching Darcy’s gaze firmly on the screen before her. Glasses on, even. Her tongue maneuvering her toothbrush to the side of her mouth, Anna tilted her head slightly.

“I thought you weren’t into this whole “pro wrestling” thing,” her fingers provided quotes as her observation was made.

“Yeah, I’m not into Gossip Girl either, but if I don’t know who Dave and Jenna Humphrey are, I have to hear you blab about it for hours,” Darcy teased back, a knowing smile stretching across her face as Anna swiftly removed her toothbrush.

“Dan and Jenny. That’s their names!” Anna huffed slightly out of dorky frustration as Darcy nodded along happily.

“Oh, back off,” Anna added, shoving her toothbrush back in her mouth as the ringing of a bell bounced off the walls.

“Dammit,” Darcy muttered, slight annoyance and disappointment filling her eyes.

“What happened?” Anna questioned.

“Ned’s friend lost. He’s kind of all over the place, but… I think he means well. By no means my favorite person, though, not gonna lie.”

“Y’know, for a gal who doesn’t care about underpants fighting, you sure seem invested,” Anna cracked, smirking with recently polished teeth.

“Oh shush! I was just hoping this one guy would finally lose. He’s kind of like if you tried to AI generate “man in suit.” It’d be nice to see him cut down a little bit.”

Anna’s smirk faded slightly, tinted with the burden of context.

“Still upset that he beat Ned, huh?”

Darcy remained quiet for a moment. She stewed like this whenever these sorts of situations arose. Silently simmering until the steam could be felt.

“I’m not upset about it, but I know he is. That belt meant everything to him, Anna. You’ve never had to watch someone you love’s dreams turn to dust. It… sucks.”

“It sucks hard.”

Anna tucked her toothbrush behind her ear as she walked to Darcy’s side, sitting on the bed, slightly dampening it on contact. She cupped Darcy’s cheeks in her palms, leaning in to meet their lips briefly.

“Yeah… but what about your dreams, babe?” Anna asked, her voice nearly a whisper, “You put so much of yourself into that situation. Got wrapped up in everything and barely had time to process, let alone just think about your own goals. You’ve been stuck ever since that whole Chameleon ordeal. You are allowed to be free of it now. It’s not your burden to bear anymore.”

Darcy gave a slight, melancholic smile before nodding in agreement, her eyes locked with Anna’s own gentle, hazel ones. Anna’s hand had moved to switch the television off, hovering over the power button.

That’s when the music played.

Ned’s music.

“No,” Darcy muttered, her attention flung back to the screen, parroting the sounds of disbelief from the commentators Anna had just heard grating the sides of her ears moments prior.

Pulling away, Darcy sat up, leaning forward on the bed as the rest of the world began to fade to white noise.

A championship match at any time, Anna thought. It only now dawned on her what precisely that entailed.

“Babe, we don’t have to watc-”

“Don’t,” Darcy declared, hands balled into anxious fists hovering near her chin.

“Just leave it on.”

The two watched on for the ensuing match, a cavalcade of boos descending upon Kaye through each maneuver and move. Every second feeling that bit more torturous. Darcy’s nails digging into her palm, nearly piercing the skin as it continued.

A small buzz on the nightstand broke Anna’s concentration. Picking up her partner’s phone, her pupils widened as the message became more clear to her.

“Anything important?” Darcy asked, only half-listening.

Anna smiled, trying to be as reassuring as she could.

“It can wait.”

She tossed the phone aside, scooting closer to Darcy as the match approached its conclusion. Ned’s body precariously in position for a career-ending finishing move. The next few seconds seemed to drag. Ned’s swift reversal. The triumphant victory over this “man in suit” undercut by a sea of disappointment and rage at the man who just declared that he did all of it for them. Like Metropolis spitting at Superman’s cape. There was no triumph in Darcy’s eyes. Merely a quiet horror. A building despair. It was the same look that the camera caught in Ned’s.

Anna switched the TV off, the shadowy reflection of the two staring back at them. She hadn’t really figured out how all of this wrestling business was supposed to work, but it didn’t take a genius to see that something had gone horribly wrong. Anna’s lips pierced before she asked the only question she could think to ask.

“What now?”

---

August 11th, 2024

Javits Center.

One-point-Eight MILLION square feet.

New York City’s largest convention center.

Filled to the brim.

With geometry nerds.

Cosplayers dressed as the Mobius Strip.

Round Table fan fiction script reading of “What if Euclid and Pythagoras were in a love triangle with a mathematician from the future named Polly Gon?”…(Who, according to the text’s physical description, looks suspiciously like if the author spent less time writing fan fiction and more time on skincare.)

A tetra-dodecha-centi-gon of the absolute goofiest gaggle of geeks your mind could conceive, all jibbering excitedly over shapes.

“EX-SCUZE ME!”

CLANK! A metal wagon collides with an artist’s booth, where he sells drawings of “Integral and Differential Erotica” (erotica about the rate at which things moooooove, if-you-know-what-I-mean).

“JESUS!” Screeches Mark Flynn, dragging the wagon behind him. “GANGWAY! CLEAR A PATH, YOU LOSERS!”

The nerds eventually clear enough space that Flynn squeezes his wagon juuuuust behind a man excitedly glancing left-and-right, breathing the atmosphere in delightedly!

…Flynn sneers.

“Archi-Ned-es. You NEVER get to pick a mission! EVER AGAIN.”

Ned glances back at his partner.

“What? You’re not having fun?”

…Flynn tries to side-eye every single shape nerd at once, until the effort disorients him.

“A CONVENTION?!?” Flynn hisses. “For GEOMETRY fans?!? How can anyone be a fan of something everyone else grows out of in EIGHTH GRADE!”

“I dunno, Mark.” Ned grins. “How are there wrestling fans?”

“We-”

…

“Shuddup.” Flynn sneers, physically smacking away that retort. “APPLES and ORANGES!”

“Mark, we both love wrestling, but it’s okay to like other things! It’s important to be… well-rounded!”

…

“Nedward Blake, was that a GODDAMNED PUN!?!”

“Noooooooo, me? I would never. But… only liking one thing? Might make one appear… two-dimensional.”

“I am NOT two-dim-... GODDAMNIT! THAT WAS A PUN, FOR SURE!”

“Could’ve been. From the right angle.”

“‘Course it was! Don’t be obtuse!”

“I thought it was a-cute.”

“I-Enough with the silly lines!”

“These aren’t even lines! More like line… segments.”

“SILENCE!”

…

“You CANNOT compare geometry with wrestling.”

“Wrestling’s an artform! Yes, its larger-than-life personalities appeal to impressionable youth! But, with age, its messages resonate deeper! Simple children’s stories take on new dimensions with an adult mind!”

Flynn menaces at the maelstrom of mewling mathematical mini-minds with malevolence.

“MEANWHILE! Geometry is people desperately reliving the last time they could be described as ‘gifted’ or ‘talented’... When they were THREE! Dropping WOODEN SHAPE BLOCKS into MATCHING HOLES.”

“So WHY, pray tell, are we here?!? What’s so great about geometry?!?”

…

Ned shrugs.

“I think it’s neat!”

…Flynn stews angrily… As two nerds glance at his wagon’s contents… One-half of the XWF Tag-Team championship! The belt Adeyemi did NOT steal last Warfare.

“Wow! Nice curves on that belt!”

Flynn spins on the pair! “GET AWAY FROM THAT!”

The two scuttle off terrified, as Flynn defensively drags the wagon closer.

“Y’know, you’d have an easier time walking if you carried the belt on your shoulder…”

Flynn’s face contorts in horror at the idea!

“NEDERICK! I didn’t WIN this belt! By right, it’s yours and Prince’s!”

…Ned rolls his eyes.

“Well, Prince’s taking another week off… As Thad’s appointed substitute, it’s yours. Plus, you and I defended it last Warfare. You’re guarding the gold. Might as well wear it.”

Flynn’s face grimaces in revulsion!

“Wearing a belt I didn’t win?!? BAD VOODOO, Nedderpillar!”

“...Bad… voodoo?”

“BAAAAAAAAAD VOODOO!” Flynn knocks on a nearby wooden table. “Baaaaaad luck to wear a belt you didn’t win! Ask any wrestler! Or sailor! Or sailor-themed wrestler!”

Ned pssshes. “Don’t tell me YOU believe that superstitious nonsense.”

“IT’S TRUE!” Flynn insists, serious as saltwater. "Ever hear of Sean "Sea Legs" Leggasse? He won a novelty belt in a company raffle! Wore it to the ring one night… Ended up in Davy Jones’ Locker!"

“...The sea floor?”

“No, David Jones, the bullying-themed wrestler, shoved Sea Legs into a locker!”

“Sounds… unrelated to the belt thing.”

“Don't get me STARTED on "Jolly" Roger Joules! Joules bought a championship belt in an antique shop, started calling himself the Asian-Pacific champion... Next thing you know, he got Shanghai'ed!"

“...Whoa! He was kidnapped at high sea?”

"Even worse! He couldn't get booked on a card outside of Shanghai, China! A fate worse than death!"

…

“Okay, how many sailor-themed wrestlers are there?”

“A LOT, NEDBEARD. AND THE ONES THAT DISHONOR THE WRESTLER’S CODE MEET GRISLY FATES!”

“As such? This belt? Is STAYING OFF!”

…

“Unless you wanna wear it, ‘course.”

Ned exhales.

“Nah. Prince took mine. Wouldn’t be right.”

…

Flynn mutters, irritatedly. “No belt… s’not right, champ should have his belt…”

Ned shakes his head… When, suddenly, his ears perk!

A loudspeaker blares out, drawing Ned towards it, Mark reluctantly following behind him.

“LADIES, GENTLEMEN AND ALL WITHIN THE HYPOTENUSE!”

A crowd had formed earlier, a sea of math dorks lined up for one of the most prestigious events of the summer! Ned looks on, with an excited smile, a large banner dropping down as the announcement continues!

“It’s time for the 25th Annual Geomowear Geometry Grand Championship! All may enter, but only one Shape Soverign may be crowned! Can anyone stop the winner of the last 7 championships in a row, Gene “The Emperor” Eric?”

Flynn’s gaze narrowed, looking towards the stage and back to Ned several times.

“Alright, HOW can geometry be competitive?! You solve for X, but X’s locked inside of a box guarded by angry polygons? IS X GUARDED BY DAVY JONES? DID HE MAKE IT OUT OF CHINA? DID HE DIG??? DO WE HAVE TO FIGHT A MAN WHO DUG BACK TO THE STATES?”

“No, Mark, nothing like that. Every year, Geomowear holds this event. Gene Eric might seem like a boring fellow with a lack of a lot of history, very few connections outside of Geomeowear insiders, and a lot of personal drama that comes from a inflated ego.”

“But?” Mark asks.

“Well,” Ned mulls over what to say in lieu of lying, “he’s still won a lot!”

The loudspeaker continues.

“Contestants from all over the world compete! Facing tests of geometric strength, geometric skill and geometric stamina!”

"...Geometric stamina?"

"Like, yoga."

"Don't be ridiculous, Ned! Geometric stamina is nothing like y-"

"Like yoga!" The loudspeaker barks.

"...Okay, well, fine."

Flynn impatiently taps his foot, the gravitas of this event grating the few parts of his mind that haven’t decided to become action film stars.

“Neddicine Alkayedo, are you sure you passed your last CTE? This might be the most BOR-ING, POINTLESS, and- I’ll say it- ABSURD endeavor I’ve seen you take part in! WHAT WOULD YOU HAVE TO GAIN FOR THIS TO EVEN-”

“And now,” the loudspeaker continued, “what you have to gain! For the 25th Anniversary, we’ve gone all out and can promise you a one of a kind prize: A geometry-based custom-tailored accessory, handcrafted, tailored and designed by the great Ty Angle, beltsmith to the shape-based stars, inventor of the cube watch!"

Flynn’s eye twitches.

“Hey, that’s pretty neat! Maybe between the other events we can watch the-”

Ned glances to his side. Mark has disappeared.

“Mark?”

Looking up, he sees Mark climbing onto the stage, leg already propped upon a security guard.

“Put us in! PUT US NOW YOU COWARDS!”

“Mark!” Ned calls out, “This is NOT the kind of event you go in unprepared for!”

”Robert Nedford, it’s a goddamned Geometry Contest!!! How hard could it be?”

---

EVENT 1: The RHOM-Bus

AU: Only one team left that hasn’t disconnected the bomb! And if their bus hits forty-nine miles-per-hour… IT WILL EXPLODE!

KV: Combatant Kaye deftly maintains vehicle speed above fifty!

AU: Very difficult with NON-CIRCULAR WHEELS!

Indeed, Ned’s driving a bus with rhombus wheels.

Very bumpy ride.

Ned clings onto the rocking bus radio!

“Fl-fl-flynn! St-st-status report!”

“FOR FUCK’S SAKE! HOW’S THIS THE FIRST EVENT!?!”

“Th-th-they like to w-w-weed o-”

“SHUDDUP! HOW ARE WE DRIVING ON NEW YORK CITY BUSSES! WITH ACTIVE BOMBS!”

---

NINE MONTHS EARLIER

A man wears a mayor pin.

…

His deskphone rrrrrrrrriiiiiiiiiiiings.

The man answers.

“Mayor of New York speaking!”

“Hello! I’m with Geomowear! We’re seeking a permit f-”

“GRANTED!”

---

“GODDAMMIT!”

Ned grips onto the radio, despite his shaking fist!

“J-j-just C-c-cut the r-red wire!”

“I CAN’T ACCESS THE RED WIRE, NEDBUG! THE CIRCUIT BOARD’S COVERED!”

“B-b-by a l-l-lock?”

“WORSE! COVERED BY ONE OF THOSE GODDAMNED GAMES WHERE YOU UNSCREW THE SHAPES!”



“THE ADS MAKE THE PLAYER LOOK SO STUPID! IT SHOULD BE AS EASY AS IT LOOKS!”

AU: They’re running outta time!

KV: And running outta freeway!

Indeed, a mile-and-a-half ahead… Ned spots…

A Road Out Sign!

“F-f-flynn! It’s N-n-n-now or n-n-n-”

“SAVE YOUR SALIVA, PORKY P-! GODDAMMIT! RESTART AGAIN?!?”

…Ned inhales, summoning patience… He eyes the radio with steely resolve!

“M-m-m-mark! It’s n-n-not about wh-wh-where the shapes are! I-i-it’s about wh-where they’ll f-f-fall!”

…

Flynn’s eyes carefully scan…

A bead of sweat drops… up his face. He’s currently rappelling upside-down on the bus’s underside! Holding a screwdriver and wirecutters…

…

He removes the last screw!

LEVEL COMPLETE

The plate drops off!

Flynn snips the red wire!

“HIT THE BRAKES, FREE-NED-ITREPORTDOTCOM!”

Ned switches from the accelerator to the brakes!

THE BUS IS ROCKED COMPLETELY! LIKE HITTING A THOUSAND SPEEDBUMPS!

…

……

BUT IT STOPS UPRIGHT!

AU: INCREDIBLE! Kaye and Flynn survive the first round!

---

EVENT 2: TRAP-E-ZOID!

AU: Yes! Gene Eric finishes the Puzzle Labyrinth first!

KV: Meanwhile, the two last-minute entrants are juuuuuuust exiting the penultimate puzzle room… Wasting significant time arguing… AFTER finding the solution!

Our heroes jog through hallways of mirrors and dead-ends…

“STUPID! Your answer doesn’t work!”

“Of course it does, Mark! The riddle was…

Quote:“Every headlock may be broken,
Every sleeper hold awoken,

A figure four? Undone with tact.
A Boston crab? Any may cracked.

But I am the hold no man can escape
Your teeth may grit, your nails may scrape

You may beg, cry, bargain, plea
But no living creature can escape me

What am I?”

“AND I ANSWERED IT CORRECTLY! CREDIT CARD DEBT!”

“Mark, the answer is ‘Death’!”

“Death isn’t a submission hold, NED!”

“And credit card debt is!?!”

“THANK YOU FOR ADMITTING IT! I’M SMARTER THAN THE RIDDLE!”

Flynn and Ned arrive at the corridor’s end…

"Just saying, bad riddle! Like, okay, here’s a better one…”

*ahem*

“There was a farmer from Nantucket! Grabbed his cow by the waist an-"

"Mark, you're mixing up 'riddles' with 'dirty limericks'."

…

“NO.”

Suddenly, smoke fumes from underneath the pair!

“HAHA!” Screeches a high-pitched voice! “You’ve defeated my earlier mental conundrums! BUT, I… TRAP-E-ZOID! Shall ensare you here-and-now!”

Before Ned and Flynn? Two guards…

“One of us always lies!”

“One of us alw-”

“HAHA!” Flynn pumps his fist! “THIS IS WHY I BRING THE RIDDLE BOOK WITH ME! SITUATIONS LIKE THIS!” Flynn fishes into his back pocket.

“Nice! Good planning, partner”

Flynn’s hand hits paydirt! He smiles deviously! “Haha! PREPARE to be undone by…”

Flynn fishes out…

…

`If You Give a Mouse the Means of Production… by Eric Carle Marx`.

“...Socialist children’s literature?”

Flynn stares, dumbfounded.

“If I have this… Irwin must…”

---

MEANWHILE

Irwin flips a page over NK Jr’s crib…

“The man who invented it doesn't want it.”

Page-flip.

“The man who bought it doesn't need it.”

Page-flip.

“The man who needs it doesn't know it. What is it?”

…NK Jr stares vacantly at Irwin.

“It’s ‘coffin’. Can you say kahhhhhh-ffin?”

---

“Goddammit.”

“SO!” Trap-E-zoid, dressed in a green cape and cutout mask, emerges from the shadows! “Behind the truthteller’s door? The final round! Behind the liar’s? Two-dozen HUNGRY HOUNDS!”

“Okay!” Ned strokes his chin. “We just need a question that the guards would answer differently! Like, ‘which door is your partner guarding?’ Or wh-”

“OR! COUNTER-RIDDLE!”

“...Counter-riddle?”

“Counter-riddle?!?”

AU: Counter-riddle?!?

Flynn approaches Trap-E-Zoid…

“Ready?”

Trap-E-Zoid scoffs confidently! “You dare riddle ME!?! THE SHARPEST MIND EVER TO CRAFT A MENTAL MAZE?!!?”

“Try this one!”

*ahem*

“There once was a guy who could kick!”

…

“Wh-?”

WHAM! Flynn PUNTS Trap-E-Zoid straight in the nether-regions!

AU: OOOOOOOOOH!

KV: If Trap-E-Zoid’s sides weren’t equal before? They aren’t now!

Trap-E-Zoid collapses, holding his family jewels!

Ned’s shocked as Flynn strolls up to the guards.

“Nerds! Did I kick your boss in the gonads?”

“NO!” Left guard.

“YES!” Right guard.

“Right door, then!”

Flynn marches through.

…Ned chases after him.

“That wasn’t the correct solution, Mark!”

“You’re just mad that I’m better at riddles, Neddling Kids!”

---

TRIGONOMIC TRIAL THE THIRD: THE OCTOGON

AU: We started this final round with sixteen!

KV: Now, we’re down to four!

AU: Eli Ips, the Round Mound of Bounds, has our surprise entrants in a double-headlock!

An entirely-spherical man.

…

No, that’s okay, take your time visualizing it.

…

An ENTIRELY-SPHERICAL man has Flynn and Ned in simultaneous headlocks!

KV: This could spell the end for our cinderella story competitors!

Flynn side-eyes Ned under Ips’ chest.

”FUCK!” He hisses, suffocated. ”I’d back-suplex from here… But this guy doesn’t HAVE A BACK!”

Ned tries to slip out… but Ips’ gripped on tight!

“I… have… an idea…” Ned wheezes…

“Quickly….” Flynn’s eyes drift…

“You ever play… the King Bomb-omb Battle… Super Mario 64?”

…

“...YES!”

Ned nods… As the two heave Ips…

INTO THE AIR! WADDLING TO CARRY HIM TO THE OCTAGON’S SIDE!

AND TOSS HIM OVER!

ELI IPS ELIMINATED! THREE REMAIN!

Ned and Flynn lie spent on the mat…

A seven-foot figure looms above!

KV: GENE ERIC!

The crowd cheers!

KV: Looking to claim Crown #8!

Eric scoops Flynn by his neck scruff, like a man picking up a kitten.

…Flynn claws Eric’s face!

“I’M WINNIN’ THAT BELT, ASSHOLE!”

Eric sneers angrily… And pitches Flynn over the Octagon’s top!

AU: What a toss! Are we down to two?

…Flynn goes over…

…BUT CLAWS ONTO THE SIDE LIKE A CAT!

KV: Flynn avoids elimination! His feet did NOT touch the floor!

AU: But, he’s in no-man’s land! And his partner’s vulnerable!

Eric looms over Ned… DOUBLE AXEHANDLE straight to Kaye’s back!

AGAIN!

Kaye drops to his knees!

…Clinging outside, Flynn panic-grimaces!

“SHIT!”

Kaye backflips! Delivering a desperation Pele Kick to the jaw!

…Eric wobbles!

BUT REMAINS STANDING!

Flynn inhales…

”Dammit… whaddoIdo… WHADDOIDO!”

Quote:“M-m-m-mark! It’s n-n-not about wh-wh-where the shapes are! I-i-it’s about wh-where they’ll f-f-fall!”

…Lightbulb!

Flynn crawls… down the netting?

AU: Flynn’s… actively crawling away from the action! Towards elimination! If his feet touch, he’s out!

Flynn skitters… under the octagon?!?

Eric laughs confidently, swinging his mighty fists! Ned bobs and weaves!

AU: Kaye’s fast, but he’s outgunned!

KV: Kaye’s kicks can’t drop Eric! Only move him!

Kaye launches a desperation roundhouse…

Eric drops back toward the Octagon’s ce-

SUDDENLY, THE FLOOR DROPS OUT UNDERNEATH ERIC!

AU: WHAAAAAAAAAAAT?!?

KV: THE CHAMPION STILL STANDS…

…

BUT HIS FEET HAVE TOUCHED THE FLOOR!

Gene Eric’s touching the floor BENEATH THE RING!

Ned Kaye collapses into the corner, exhausted!

AU: Has Kaye won? Is he the New Geomowear Grand Champion?”

Eric angrily crawls away, defeated…

…But emerging from the ring hole…

MARK FLYNN!

HOLDING THE SCREWDRIVER FROM THE RHOM-BUS ROUND!

AU: Amazing! Mark Flynn loosened the ring from underneath Gene Eric!

KV: Flynn must’ve calculated out where Eric would step after eating Kaye’s kick!

AU: Who says geometry is useless?

Flynn drops the tool…

…Ned exhales with relief..

…

But Flynn raises his fists!

AU: Looks like Flynn wants that belt!

KV: Of course he does! It’s the highest prize in all of geometry!

…Ned exhales, completely tuckered out.

“Jesus, Mark. Seriously? You want some belt this badly?”

“I NEED THAT BELT!”

…Ned sighs, raising his fists.

“GOTTA KICK YOUR ASS! FOR YOU, BUD!”

…

Ned’s fists drop.

“What?”

“It’s the ONLY way!” Flynn insists, boxer-hopping from foot-to-foot! “Prince stole your belt… I gotta… Getcha a new one!”

…

“Wait. You wanna win the belt… For me?”

…

Flynn exhales.

“I… I just feel like… I musta messed things up between you and Prince… Now, he has your belt… I have his belt…”

“I figured… If we had a third belt… We could… fix things…”

…

“That’s… sweet, Mark.”

“SHUDDUP AND FIGHT, NED!” Mark slams his fists together! His legs wobble!

…

“I’m serious.”

“Honestly, I felt really bad about the last time we tagged. You wanted to have a fun experience with your friend and… I’m sick of losing myself in Prince’s chaos. Seeing it through you caused a ton to click. He’s so obsessed with success that the rest falls away. Becomes irrelevant. I’m not that. I don’t need to win.”

“So, thanks for tagging along. Good game.”

Ned walks over to the Octagon’s side, climbing the netting… As the crowd boos!

AU: What’s this? Ned’s voluntarily eliminating himself! Letting Flynn win!

KV: Not the ending this crowd wanted!

…

Flynn PUMPS HIS FIST!

”YES!” Flynn cackles, delightedly!  “Now, I just give the belt to Ned!”

“That’ll cancel out the curse of... not winning..."

…

"A belt we're... holding."

...

"SHIT."

Ned mounts the Octagon’s railing, waving as the crowd boo.

BEFORE FLYNN DIVES CLEAR-THROUGH THE NETTING!

LANDING FACEFIRST OUTSIDE!

GEOMOWEAR GRAND CHAMPION: NED KAYE!

AU: Flynn eliminated himself first! Ned wins against his will!

KV: Truly the worst ending anyone could imagine!

Ned quickly hops to the floor down to Flynn’s mangled body, tangled against the railing!

“Flynn! Why’d you do that?!?”

Flynn coughs, lying on the ground…

“Couldn’t… give you the belt, Nedrick… You had to win it! Wrestling-sailor law…”

…Ned grins.

“…Mark Flynn trying to lose? NOW, I’ve seen everything.”

…Flynn grins weakly.

“...Now. You know what to do.”

…Ned nods.

---

…

Flynn rides in his wagon… in a chest-cast.

XWF tag-title belt sits on his lap.

Ned pulls the wagon…

Over his shoulder?

…

Nothing.

On his wrist?

A cube-shaped watch. Crafted by Ty Angle.

…

“Goddammit, Ned… Whyyyyyyyy?”

Ned lifts the watch.

“I just think it’s neat!”

"You can't run from yourself."