Jett once more found an amused smirk plastered on his face as Venice continued to cheer him on—and her threats were of the sort he was very much enjoying. He was focusing moreso on her than what he was doing and, while he was aware that the bag was certainly swaying an awful lot, he severely doubted there was any chance of it being knocked off the wall.

Except, for the first time in what Jett would consider a long time, he was wrong.

There was a particularly unfriendly metallic clink and Jett directed his eyes up a foot just in time to see a tear growing along the seam. The metal chain fastened to either side of the bag had seen far better days, though Jett was still left relatively stunned when the tear inched it’s way up to the metal. He barely had time to retract his fist or to consider trying to stop the bag’s swinging before something calamitous happened.

And, of course, it did.

When the fabric tore near the metal hook, the chain snapped off, flung against the bar the bag was fastened to, and slid right out of the hook holding it. The bag landed in a heap in front of the two with another loud thud.

Jett’s eyes directed themselves to the mess in front of him in silent contemplation; he knew the incident had been loud for him, though wasn’t sure how much of a scene he’d just made—or how many people had noticed.

And he wasn’t going to stick around to find out.

All in stride, he stood up straight and spun a little to face Venice, flashing her another of his charming smiles. “Well, it’s been lovely, Venice, but I’m sure you’ll understand when I say I’m on a busy schedule and it’s about time for me to be heading out. But you’re more than welcome to try and hunt me down and tie me up. Sounds fun. But I like a good game of cat and mouse, so before you get to do that, you’ll have to catch me and for that,” he was hastily pulling off his gloves right now, eyes on the observers of the gym. More people had taken notice—a certain bald man in particularly. And he looked angry.

Jett cleared his throat and glanced to Venice as he continued, “For that, you ah, you’d better be good at running.” He eyed the bald man once more and found himself particularly aware of his bulging muscles and clenched fists—and a very prominent vein on his forehead just begging to burst.

“…And I suggest you start now.”

Because, if Jett got caught and blamed for this, he wasn’t going to down alone. If Jett got caught.

He took his own advice about running and was out the door well before the flesh toned Hulk got anywhere near him.