No. There’s no need to sink to her level.

“Hmmm, tempting. Let me think about it,” you say out loud, then whisper your actual reply to the Champion as you let her fall. “I think she’s already humiliated enough. I mean, look at her. She strolled in here like she owned the place—she was practically dripping arrogance and condescension. And she failed, and got smacked down for it. We broke her illusion, and I don’t think anything else we could do to her is as bad as that.”

Raising your voice again to the audience, you mime having finished your thoughts and say, “Nah, you know what, I’m good. She’s not worth the effort it would take me to cum.”

The crowd cheers at your declaration (apparently Lady Grace isn’t well-liked around here, and it’s not hard to tell why), and Roxie regards you with a contemplative look on her face for a second. You’re just about to ask her what’s going through her head when she snaps out of it. Turning to Grace’s “butler”, she orders, “Clean this trash up.”

The man’s eyes widen in fear and he hurriedly pulls Grace’s prone body out of the ring. Though she stirs and groans in protest, there’s little else she can do as he carries her back up the ramp.

Roxie brushes her hands together as if cleaning off dust, then turns back to you with a grin. “We now return you to your regularly scheduled programming,” she quips.