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It was a rather sharp escalation of their usual fights over the lat pulldown. A favorite of both Lodi and Mace, the latter had developed a habit of making her way over to the machine not long after Lodi sat down at the bench. It had become a familiar scene to the rest of the gym goers, most of whom just got out of Mace's way when they saw the ornery rat approaching.

Mace was usually aggressor, and it was no different today. It started off pretty typically, the name calling, the swearing, the similarly antagonistic response from the big terrier. The volume increased while their spectators paused their reps to watch it unfold as it had time and time again. Here was a good idea, Mace scooped up Lodi's phone, trotting away toward the center of the gym. This got Lodi off the bench, as was the plan, as he stomped after the irksome rodent. It came to a standoff, Lodi holding out a large and powerful paw, the international sign for "give it." Mace obliged sooner than expected - with an overhand heater, launching it like a fastball at Lodi. A collective, audible reaction of awe echoed through the mirrored walls of the room as Lodi snatched it out of the air at about knee-level.

A small amount of applause accompanied Lodi's cocky strut back toward the machine. Well, now she had to do something, swing the momentum back her way. The idea she came up with wasn't exactly sophisticated but it seemed like it'd be pretty effective. Before he could make it back to the bench, Mace trotted up behind him, her nimble claws slipping beneath the waistband of his shorts, yanking them down to his knees.

Gasps and shocked voices rang out through the gym as Lodi froze in place, looking down as his maw fell open, realizing what had happened. A sneering Mace pushed by the bottomless bull terrier, swinging a leg over the bench of the lat pulldown machine. It was crude, yes, but it did what she needed it to. Mace reached up, taking a hold of the handle bar, preparing to enjoy a triumphant workout. Now, as the cherry on top, she was hoping to have revealed him to be packing a dinky little thing in there and, well, not that she was looking or anything but...definitely not the case. She couldn't have known in the moment how much she'd come to regret that revelation. But hey, naked was naked, right? Either way, she'd definitely won.

It was moments like this which really defined a person's character. For a moment, Lodi stood there, surrounded by the gym patrons, considering his options. Was he caught off guard? Admittedly so. Embarrassed? A little. But mostly, he was just really pissed. He kicked away the shorts, causing one gym goer to jump to the side to avoid them. He marched over toward Mace and the machine which incited the whole incident.

Had she not been so wrapped up in the satisfaction of a hard-won workout, Mace probably would have heard the bull terrier stomping up behind her, but regardless, she definitely knew it when her entire self was lifted up off of the bench. From their own machines and stations, everyone in the gym found themselves unable to look away as the final confrontation look place, lots of yelling, lots of swearing, more clothing to avoid, this time belonging to Mace. They could all see Lodi's bare, white-furred backside sat flat atop the bench now, having successfully usurped the spot from Mace. But while he'd ordinarily want Mace as far from this spot as possible, the other patrons watched as the bull terrier now held the thrashing rat right there with him, hoisting her into his newly exposed lap.

From there, that's where things got a bit awkward.

Mace cycled through a rhythmic rotation of curse words every time she was bounced back down into Lodi's thighs. She had to admit, while she expected the pantsing offensive to be the killshot of today's exchange, Lodi's follow up of shoving that whole damn wad inside of her was a pretty ingenious strategy. She wasn't exactly about to take a poll but she had to think that "pants pulled down" just slightly edged out "on jerk's dick" as the less embarrassing public display. But through all of a grunting and growling and thighs slapping thighs, the key thing, surely, was that Mace retained on hand on the handlebar at all times. Sure, to the casual onlooker, it might have been easy to get distracted with the fact that she was getting fucked by her arch rival and his annoyingly thick, meat-headed meat-stick, but for those paying attention to what mattered, the conflict which begat the entire struggle, Mace was inarguably winning this exchange. She had the bar. Hell, if she could just get her other arm up there for a second, she could continue her workout. Lodi's hands certainly weren't on the bar, they were all over her body, too distracted with claiming his honestly-not-that-good consolation prize. The irony was, he was the one who looked like the fool here. This had to be so embarrassing for him, right?

Mace liked to think so, as she was shoved back down onto the muscular flesh she had exposed to the world.

As for the rest of the gym patrons, there was a sense of uncertainly on what to do next. They should probably be calling somebody, yes? But at the same time, it really felt like the kind of thing those two just needed to sort out on their way. Sure, it was still sort of awkward to try and get back to their workouts with...that going on over there, but in the minds of those who had followed this rivalry from the beginning, somehow, some way, this always felt like the logical conclusion.