Sydney Sweeney versus Priyanka Chopra (JMD)

Sydney Sweeney vs Priyankra Chopra
Results by Lookout / Words by CountryMouse
Interview: Ellie Thumann and Sydney Sweeney



Ellie Thumann: "Hey everyone, I’m here with the incredibly talented Sydney Sweeney! We’ve all seen her amazing work in Anyone but You and Immaculate—what a year! So glad to have you here, Syd!"

Sydney Sweeney: (hugging Ellie a little too long) "Oh, Ellie, stop! Look at you, though—what a bangin’ body! Bet the guys are loving that, huh?"

Ellie Thumann: laughs "Stop it! Okay, back to you. Congrats on your movies!"

Sydney Sweeney: grins "Thanks! And thanks to everyone who watched—what a chore it must’ve been to see me in a bikini for half the movie, right? But seriously, I’m so thankful."

Ellie Thumann: "I’m sure no one’s complaining! But let’s talk about your upcoming JMD match with Priyanka Chopra. Everyone’s wondering—do you think your larger bust size gives you an advantage?"

Sydney Sweeney: (signature goofy laugh) "Ellie, that’s the stupidest question I’ve ever heard! Would you ask Kamala Harris that? And besides, if bigger boobs meant anything, anyone could beat you with your smaller chest!"

Ellie Thumann: laughs "Ouch, Syd! But let me remind you, I’ve been in the Sports Illustrated Swimsuit Issue three times!

Sydney Sweeney: grins "Fair enough! And honestly, having these 32Ds just means I’m a bigger target, right? But Pri’s a total sweetheart. I hate that ‘sample size’ comment—she’s gorgeous! It’s always fun being in the ring with a girl who has a body like hers. Maybe a little distracting though... kinda wish this was a wrestling match instead."

Ellie Thumann: "Haha! So will it be hard to fight someone you think so highly of?"

Sydney Sweeney: laughs "Hell no! I’m gonna kick that b*tch’s ass!"

Priyanka Chopra: (walking up and hugging Sydney) "Hey, Sydney! Ready for the big match?" (Then she turns to Ellie, hugging her and lingering a bit too long) "Mmm, Ellie, I’ve gotta say... wow. The photos really don’t do your body justice!"

Ellie Thumann: blushing and slightly embarrassed "Uh... thank you, Priyanka."

Priyanka Chopra: turning to Sydney, her tone methodical, quiet, and menacing "Sydney, your bust… it’s like the Himalayas. One of the great wonders of the world. But in the ring, I’m going to dismantle them. I’ll give special attention to each breast, hitting them from every angle. I’ll bounce them like beach balls, pound them until they’re red."

Ellie Thumann: surprised "Whoa! That’s intense!"

Priyanka Chopra: pulls a coupon out of thin air "Here’s a spa day coupon. You’ll need it after I’m done with you."

Ellie Thumann: laughing "Pri, that promo is awesome!"

Priyanka Chopra: conjures another coupon for Ellie "Careful, Ellie. Mess with me, and I’ll do the same to you."

—-

Round 1

Minute 1



From the bell, Sydney's all over Priyanka. Fast. Brutal. It’s like she’s got something to prove—comes in swinging hard, left hook, right uppercut—bam, that uppercut slams into Priyanka's chest. You hear it. The kind of sound that echoes through a rib cage. Priyanka staggers back, her face twisted in shock.
Sydney’s not holding back, and why should she? She grins, circling like a damn predator. “That all you got? Gonna cry already?”

Minute 2



Priyanka tries to throw a jab, but it's more of a hesitation, and Sydney ducks it, slipping in under. Thud. Another hit, straight to the breasts. Priyanka winces—eyes narrow in pain—but she's too proud to show it, right? Too serious. But Sweeney sees it, and like a shark sniffing blood, she doubles down. “I thought those things were bigger,” Sydney taunts, smirking. “Guess you just stuff your bra.”

Priyanka grunts, more out of frustration now, takes a step back, resets her stance. Sydney doesn't care—keeps pushing forward.

Minute 3



Sydney's on her like a beast. Right hook—lands flush on Priyanka’s chest. Crack. It’s a sound that gets under your skin, that deep, fleshy slap. Priyanka stumbles again, barely keeps herself standing, her arms dropping just enough for Sydney to see an opening.

“You feel that?” Sweeney sneers. “This is your punishment for being so damn uptight.”

The round ends. Sweeney takes it easy. Wide points. Too wide.

Round 2

Minute 1



Priyanka’s angry now. Deadly. You can see it in her eyes. She starts the second round cautiously—her jab’s sharper, more precise. This isn’t about overwhelming Sydney, it’s about getting through her defenses. One jab, then another—both slamming into Sydney’s chest, but they don’t have the same punch. They land, sure, but Sydney grins through it.

Still, Chopra’s working her strategy. One hit, then another. Jab, jab. It’s not enough to make Sydney back off, but enough to earn points.

Minute 2



Then, Sydney comes back, slipping Chopra's next jab, and throwing a wild left hook. Chopra anticipates it—slips back just in time. Whiff. Sydney’s fist just cuts the air, and Priyanka answers with a clean shot. Pop—directly into Sydney’s chest. She grunts in shock, face twisted for the first time. Priyanka lands another—quicker this time. Sydney’s right there, hands up, trying to block, but Chopra gets through.

It’s turning into a grind, but Priyanka’s finding her rhythm.

Minute 3



It’s Chopra’s round now, and she’s feeling it. Tight jabs—back to back—landing with precision, both fists sinking into Sydney’s soft chest like they’re hitting water balloons. Sydney’s struggling to stay on the attack but her swings are just a little slower, a little lazier.

Sydney tries to clinch, but the bell rings. Chopra’s round, close.

Round 3

Minute 1



It’s a war now. Both of them go toe-to-toe in the middle of the ring, no games, no hesitation. Sydney leads with her right, but Priyanka’s ready—she throws a sharp counterpunch straight into Sydney’s breast. Smack. You hear that? It’s like someone threw a sack of wet sand at a wall.

Sydney grunts, but instead of retreating, she laughs. “Come on, you stuck-up b***h, hit me harder!” Sydney lunges in, pulls Priyanka into a clinch—oh, you know what’s coming.

Minute 2



Forearm. Thud. Priyanka gasps. Again—Sweeney digs her elbows into Priyanka’s chest while the ref's blind. Chop to the throat, forearm again into the chest. Chopra’s gasping, struggling, and Sydney’s grinning, pulling her tighter in the clinch, the dirty fighter she is. It’s like watching Hopkins smother a fool in slow motion.

Minute 3



Priyanka breaks out, pushing Sydney back, but she’s pissed. Enraged. She’s getting wild now, throwing jabs and hooks like a woman possessed. They’re coming close but not landing clean. Sydney? She’s playing defense, dodging, blocking. The ref breaks them up as the round ends. Close, but Priyanka takes it—barely. Sydney’s just too dirty.

Round 4

Minute 1

Sydney’s playing games. She’s cornering herself. Who does that? A woman with no shame, that’s who. She’s baiting Priyanka in. Priyanka doesn’t hesitate—she charges, lands a clean one-two, right into Sydney’s chest. The crowd’s on their feet now.

Sydney grins through the pain. “You hit like a child.”

Minute 2



Sydney's in her element. She’s throwing elbows, hiding them from the ref. It’s ugly—hard, dirty tactics. Priyanka’s trying to defend but she’s taking too many hits. You can see her wincing—fighting through it but she’s hurting.

Minute 3



Sydney’s not done. More forearms, more elbows. Priyanka’s chest is red now, swelling from the damage. Sydney's taunts don’t stop either. “You’re gonna give up soon, princess.” Priyanka’s furious but she’s not breaking yet. Sydney takes this round wide. Too wide.

Round 5

Minute 1



It’s starting to look like a different fight. Both of them are slower now. Those heavy shots to the chest are catching up with them. Priyanka’s breathing hard, clutching her ribs between punches, while Sydney’s still grinning, but you can see it—it’s forced. Sydney swings first, but the punch is slower than before, and Priyanka dodges it.

Chopra tries a jab to Sydney's breast, pop—but Sydney barely reacts. Both of them know the pain is coming. It’s like watching two cars driving towards a wall, and both of them are daring the other to crash first.

Minute 2



The pace slows. Sydney feints, and Priyanka flinches—Sydney cracks a smirk, but that smirk turns to a wince as Chopra lands a short, brutal hook to her chest. Thud. It’s not clean, but it still connects, sending Sydney stumbling back. Her chest looks swollen now, the skin bright pink where Priyanka’s glove connected. Sydney groans through clenched teeth, clearly trying to act tough, but that one stung.

Priyanka breathes heavy, too tired for insults, but her face says it all. You can practically see her thinking, How long can I keep this up?

Minute 3



The punches slow down even more—both fighters are barely moving now, their breasts swollen and tender from the constant battering. Priyanka lands a few more jabs, but they’re nothing like before. It’s like she’s punching through water. Sydney answers with a wide, looping punch, her glove thudding against Chopra’s chest. Crack. Priyanka gasps, doubling over, hugging her chest.

The ref steps in, but Sydney’s too busy grinning to care. She stomps on Priyanka’s chest, right where it’s most tender, and Priyanka lets out a sharp cry of pain, crumbling to her knees. The crowd erupts in a mix of boos and cheers, but Sydney isn’t fazed.

"Get up, princess!" Sydney taunts, standing over her like a playground bully. "You done playing tough?"

The bell rings. Priyanka’s clearly hurt, but the ref gives her the round on points, mostly out of sympathy. It was dirty, but Sydney’s too cocky to care.

Round 6

Minute 1



Priyanka’s in bad shape as the round starts. You can see it—she’s limping, her chest heaving, her breathing ragged. Sydney’s still grinning like a wolf who smells blood. She knows this is her round to take. She goes for it immediately—right out of the corner, leading with a wild left hook that misses, but she follows it up with a headbutt, slamming right between Priyanka’s eyes.


Thunk. You can almost hear the dull crack of bone on bone. Priyanka’s eyes go wide in shock, stumbling back on wobbly legs, her hands flying up to her head. But Sydney doesn’t stop. She smells weakness.

Minute 2



With Priyanka stunned, Sydney presses her advantage. She throws a hook, smack, straight into Chopra’s left breast. You can hear the crowd gasp as Chopra cries out, her chest folding under the impact. Sydney lands another one, and another, each punch making Chopra stumble more, her legs barely holding her up.

The pain’s written all over Priyanka’s face. Her chest looks like it’s been through a meat grinder—red, swollen, bruised. Every time Sydney hits her, it’s like watching a balloon about to burst.

Crack. Sydney lands a final blow that sends Priyanka crashing to the mat. The air’s knocked out of her, and she clutches her chest, gasping for breath.

Minute 3



The ref starts the count, but Priyanka isn’t moving. She’s done. There’s no way she’s getting up from this. Sydney, smug as ever, leans over the ropes, yelling at the ref. “Count faster! She’s out, just call it!”

Priyanka’s trying to get up, but her arms are shaking, her legs refusing to cooperate. The pain in her chest is too much—she’s gasping, tears welling up as she grabs at her chest, trying to rub the pain away. But it’s not happening.

By the time the ref gets to six, Chopra’s corner throws in the towel. It’s over.

Sydney raises her arms in victory, pacing around the ring like a lioness who just took down her prey. She leans down over Priyanka, who’s still crumpled on the mat. “Next time, don’t waste my time, sweetheart.”

The crowd roars. Sydney doesn’t care. She’s already out of the ring, raising her fists to the fans, a champion in her own mind.

And Priyanka? She’s left there, broken, on her knees, clutching her chest like someone ripped her heart out.