"3...!"

The referee’s palm slaps the mat for a third, and final time.

You won.

As if that was ever in question.

The bell rings. The crowd stands.

More importantly, the crowd applauds the man of the hour.

The man who brutalized, battered, and ultimately beat my beautiful wife.

Well, not so beautiful now, you smirk to yourself as you look down upon her.

Keeping your boot on the brash brunette who thought she belonged in this ring, you grin at the fans with a look that was pure and simple…

“That was easy.”

Victory.

And as they say, to the victor…

You smile down on her with a look of sadistic, satisfying anticipation.

…goes the spoils.