"Mimi," said Poundcakes.  "Ever see All the Marbles?"

Mimi, looking at herself brushing her hair in the Motel 6 bathroom mirror, said, "I've seen it."

Poundcakes lolled back in the single bed of the room they were both sharing.  "How many times?"

"Four times.  Maybe five."  Mimi held up her chin and decided that she still looked okay.  A helluva lot of face was going to be covered up by greasepaint tomorrow night, but she damned well wanted to have something worth looking at when she got up in the morning.  She was wearing a robe and a faded blue nightdress.

"I thought it was a great show," said Poundcakes, whose every move made the bed creak like a sailing ship.  "All except one bit.  Know what that was?"

"Mmm?"

"The bit where they look in the wrestling mag and see a list of girls' tag teams.  Wrestling mags don't do that.  They don't have ratings for girls' tag teams.  Only solo girls.  Outside of that, it was great."

"Yeah. Great."  Mimi took a small tying thing and tied her hair back, then switched out the bathroom light and came out.  "You can turn the light off now."

"‘Course, the action scenes were great," said Poundcakes, her 350-pound bulk almost spilling over the sides of the bed.  "I was cheerin' the Dolls on, the only time I saw it in a theater.  I mean, I knew they were going to win it, I can smell a fix ten miles away. But the way they sold that last match, I mean, wow.  All that hammerin' and bashin' and dirty moves they were takin', made you wanna kill those Toledo Tigers.  And I'm wise, I'm not some mark.  Auntie oughtta watch that last match and take notes.  Helluva show, I can tell you.  Mimi?"

"Mmm?"

"You ever seen Below the Belt?"

"Go sleep, ‘Cakes."

 *****

Mimi Schwartz was unhappy, and thought she had a perfect reason to be.

Of course, she was relatively better off than she'd been at most points in her life.  Right now, she had a steady gig, she was making solid bucks as a wrestler-cum-valet, and she even had a super-power.

The problem with that power was that it wasn't related to strength, so she couldn't wrestle any of the girls in Auntie Freeze's troupe without it being a terribly faked wrap.  Mimi's body was not the kind which could accept Dr. Malus's strength augmentation without endangering her heart.
Thus, Auntie had ruled against making Mimi the kind of girl who could lift a police squad car, though she retained the power of her sonic scream.  It was bionic, patterned after Angar the Screamer, who was a super-villain (which term Mimi always thought was exceedingly dumb).

But Mimi could wrestle.  She could wrestle really well.  She and the other girls from the original Grapplers, Titania, Poundcakes, Letha, and the rest, had been enrolled in Mildred Burke's wrestling school and learned the tricks from the old mistress herself.  Millie, Mimi knew, had been a champ herself back in the 1950's (she'd even wrestled Auntie, back when Auntie had been in the game) and had trained a horde of pro wrestlers, both male and female.  She'd trained the actresses who wrestled in All the Marbles and that dreary Below the Belt, as well.

Mimi, who had come into the world as Melissa Joan Gold, really liked it.

The competition on the mat wasn't like the abuse she'd had to endure from her father.  And it was a far cry from what she'd had to endure in that damned women's prison in which she'd done a short stint.  That was where she'd met Poundcakes, and, after they did their time, they both had responded to an advertisement from Auntie, tried out for the new women's wrestling team she had proposed, and both made the grade, luckily.

She'd liked learning the holds, taking the falls, toughening herself up to take the pain and do the maneuvers.  She even learned how to utilize some of the gymnastics she'd taken in high school with those off-the-top-rope bits, and impressed Millie Burke mightily with her ability.

They'd dressed her up in a silly type of ballet suit (but, hey, all wrestling had its inherent silliness) and given her a facepaint job that must have been inspired by Kiss, and she had been unleashed on the circuit as Screaming Mimi Schwartz, whose shrieks, they said, beat those of Jamie Lee Curtis all hollow.  The Grapplers, a costumed variation on GLOW and the LPWA, were a moderate hit.

Then some guy (she'd never found out who) came to Auntie Freeze and made a proposal.  If she lent out the Grapplers to them, to be made into super-ops, to do a special job for them, there'd be $20 grand apiece for the girls and $50 grand for Auntie.  She had her principles, but, luckily, this didn't cross any of them.

So Auntie had broken the news to Mimi and the rest, and gave them the option to do it or not.  But all of them had to be in it as one.  They'd talked it over for about a week.  Titania was really hot on the idea, and convinced the rest to go for it.  Mimi was the last to throw in her hand.  She didn't like the idea of risking another stint in the joint.  She just wanted to stay on with the Grapplers, as a wrestler.

But in order to stay in, she had to go along.  So she did.

As part of the deal, she'd gotten a "bionic voicebox" that gave her screams the power to make whomever she targeted suffer vertigo.  It was like being on a mildly bad acid trip, and it ruined the equilibrium of her opponents.  She could also scream so loudly, and at such a high pitch, that, if she wanted to, she could temporarily deafen an enemy.  Once, she'd even tried the Pavarotti bit, and busted a wine glass with her voice.  Since that had been one of Auntie's heirlooms, it did not gain her much favor.

Screaming Mimi, super-character.  She had to admit she liked it.

The "special gig" had come and gone.  It turned out to be a criminal operation against something called the Pegasus Project, in which the Grapplers were led by that big gal Thundra, a woman from another dimension.  They'd gone up against the Thing and some of his pals, and had done fairly well, considering it was their maiden fight against super-heroes.  But they'd gotten taken down.

All of them wound up in the joint.  Mimi had attacks of hysteria that landed her regular visits with the prison shrink.  But even in stir, the Grapplers had stayed together.  Within a short time, thanks to using muscle on the other inmates and sex on the guards, they were pretty well running the show.  Luckily, Mimi stayed shy of the sex part.  Then they'd encountered the Dazzler, who had gotten jailed on some reason or another, and who rapidly become one of Mimi's least favorite people, and that kind of fell apart.

Mimi would have loved a rematch with the Dazzler, but that didn't look too promising right now.

Auntie Freeze finally made an agreement with the Feds to turn state's evidence and help rat out the corporate guys behind the Project Pegasus thing.  But she hadn't forgotten her girls, even though she had put together a newer and bigger team of Grapplers in their abscence.  She got the old team paroled on good behavior, and reintegrated into the new Grapplers team.  For the first time in a year, Mimi breathed free air, and was back in the show with her old friends and a new bunch of faces to memorize: Butterball, Sushi, Magilla, and all the rest.

Around that time, the UCWF had come into being, as a result of Dr. Karl Malus's experiments with strength enhancement.  Auntie paid for the treatments for her girls, both the new Grapplers and the ones who'd just gotten out of stir.  All of a sudden, Titania, Letha, and Poundcakes got the power to press thousands of pounds and toss their opponents into the lights.  They needed it, to compete in the super-wrestling arena.

Unfortunately, neither she nor any of the others had seen that 20 G's, nor would they ever see it.

But the strength bit was the killer for Mimi.  Dr. Malus had made the tests on her, and said that her body couldn't accept the enhancement process without endangering her life.  So now, Mimi was once again on the outside.  She just couldn't compete with the other girls in Auntie's troupe, who had been strength-enhanced.

They'd tried using some of the other girls against her in choreographed matches, but it was painfully obvious to the audience that Mimi's opponents were faking it.  Then Auntie hit on the idea of bringing in normal, non-powered lady wrestlers to take her on in special matches.  These fights, for a time, were what Mimi lived for.  She'd gone against Debbie Combs, Malia Hosaka, Candi Divine, Cheryl Rusa, Bambi, and even the great Sue Sexton.  They'd considered bringing in Magnificent Mimi Lesseos for a fight-for-the-right-to-the-name bit, but decided against it.  Mimi had her share of victories against the normal pros, and was looking forward to matches against Tina Moretti and even, if they could swing it, Madusa Micelli.

Then came the word.  Auntie had called Mimi into her office and told her, "We can't do it anymore, darling.  Getting those other girls in costs us a lot of money.  Plus the fact is that the regular promotions don't like us very much.  They're afraid the enhanced stuff is gonna put the non-enhanced out of biz.  Plus the fact is that gals' wrestling is always a tougher sell than guys'.  Like it or not, they don't want to work with us anymore."

"But, Auntie," said Mimi, as the news sank in, "I've got to wrestle.  I don't know anything else I can do."

Auntie Freeze had paused before saying, "There's something else you can do, Mimi.  You can be a valet."

Mimi's soul settled somewhere around her ankles.  "A valet?"

The old woman nodded.  "You'll still get your regular pay.  You'll still be on the team.  And you'll still be in consideration for any special gigs.  But you won't be wrestling.  What'll it be, Mimi?"

She weighed her options for about three seconds.  She could try her luck at a regular, non-powered promotion, but that was an iffy thing, not as steady work as in the Grapplers.  Plus, she had gotten comfortable being one of the team, even one who wasn't allowed to wrestle the others.  Job security and team membership--those were the real issues.

"I'll do it," she said.

So, in the days to come, Mimi had played valet to Poundcakes, had carried her long flowing cape, had gone over the corner of the ring with a Hoover before she stepped in, the whole Gorgeous George bit, and had done her best to distract the opposition, which included spraying water in Titania's eyes on one occasion and slipping a banana peel under Letha's feet on another.  She had gotten fairly good at being a clown.

But a clown wasn't what she wanted to be.

And she was still a valet.  A clown.

So there was still reason for Mimi to pop Sominex some nights when the demons wouldn't go quietly back in the box.

And there was still reason for her to dream some big, big dreams.

 *****

The matches were still some three days away, at Madison Square Garden.  Auntie was having the girls go through some of their routines in Kowalski's Gym on the Lower East Side.  It was a bit of a dump, but it was where the Grapplers had gotten their big start.  Also, it was cheap to rent.

So Sushi had gotten it on with Vavavoom, and Butterball made the floor vibrate with Poundcakes, and Battleaxe had taken on Magilla, and the other girls had waited their turn and taken on their sparring partners when a mat cleared.  When the four guys using the boxing ring had gotten through, they moved some of the action in there.

There were some guys from the wrestling rags taking photos and taping some sound bites from the women.  A stringer from a cable news outfit brought his videocam and got enough action to piece together with what he'd take later from the matches, and sell it to his client network.  Auntie liked the chance for publicity, and gave the scribes all they wanted.

Mimi leaned against a wall of the gym.  She wore full face-paint, the green ruffled collar, the green swimsuit with the cutout over her stomach, the ruffled skirt, the green gloves and ballet slippers, and held a coat over her arms as she looked at the others.

"Columbine?"

"Huh?"  She turned.  It was the guy with the video camera.

"I'm sorry, miss.  It's just your outfit reminds me of Columbine, Pierrot's lady.  Do they call you that?"

She shifted the coat in her arms and pasted on a smile.  "No, sorry.  I'm Mimi. Screaming Mimi Schwartz."

"Do you wrestle, miss?"  He still had the camera pointing right down her throat.

Mimi said, "I used to.  But I'm doing something else now.  The valet bit."

"Oh.  Why aren't you wrestling anymore?"  He was as green as a spring apple.

Mimi gathered herself, internally.  She could let out a whoop that'd blast his machine into a zillion pieces.  She could toss him over her shoulder like a poker chip.  It'd make her feel good, for a little while.

But she'd have to pay for his camera.  Auntie Freeze would be on her case for making bad publicity.  She might even have to sit out waiting on Poundcakes this time around.

"Just waiting for the right gal, I suppose," she said, and walked away from the man with the camera.

He kept filming her from the back.

 *****

It was a piece of luck that she looked the right way to catch a headline on a paper a blind newsdealer had in his stall outside.  She had the overcoat thrown over her costume and knew they could still see her weirdo makeup, but was past giving a damn.

The headline read: SHANNA "SHE-DEVIL" ARRIVES IN NEW YORK.

That, and the photo of the tall, well-built woman in the long coat and pillbox hat, deplaning at JFK, plastered side-by-side with a shot of her swinging from a vine in a leopard bikini.

Naturally, the paper was USA Today, and the pics were in color.

"Afternoon, lady," said the newsie, conversationally.

She gave a start.  "How'd you know I was a lady?"

He stubbed out the cigar he'd been smoking.  "Your steps.  You walk like a woman.  You're not wearing heels, even flats, am I right?"

"Uh, yeah.  I'm in ballet slippers."  She laughed, half-consciously.  "That's really neat.  I mean, can all blind people make out sounds that well?"

"Oh, some can," he said.  "It's not just makin' out the sounds, we can all do that.  It's knowin' what they mean.  If you'd been in high heels, I'd hear you clickin' a half block down. If it was flats, they make a clack.  If you'd been in tennies, joggin', you could hear that slap-slap-slap like beaver's tails and you'd be pantin'.  But I can hear you kinda slip along.  Figured you were in something like slippers.  Too cold for bare feet."

She looked at the paper.  "Maybe not.  This gal on page one usually goes around in a lot less."

"Is that Shanna you're talkin' about?  They told me about her, when I popped the bundles today.  Say she runs around in a bikini in the jungle."  He gave a lecherous smile.  "That lady'd be something to hear."

Mimi dropped her jaw for a moment, then smiled.  "You mean, you size up women by how they sound?  That's a new bit on me.  I'm used to guys looking hard at me, but listening--"

"Yeah, I listen.  That's what turns me on, lady, no offense.  Guys don't listen to you much, huh?"

"Only when I yell at ‘em," she said.  "My name's Mimi.  Nice meeting you."

He stuck his hand out and she shook it.  "Sid Giles," he said.  "Been here for the past year.  Are you from the gym?"

"Yeah.  Guess you figured that from my slippers, right?"

"Just kind've a guess.  You wear low shoes, you've probably been working out.  But you ain't breathin' heavy.  You just been with a friend?"

"Yep," she said.  "With a lot of my friends.  They wrestle."  She took one of the papers, and took some money from the change purse in her coat pocket and gave it to him.

"Really?  Son of a gun," he said.  "My dad used to watch the wrestling matches.  I used to listen.  Lotta fun.  Do you wrestle, miss?"

"I used to," said Mimi, scrutinizing the front page.  "Maybe I will again."

"Hey, have a nice day, Mimi," he said, as she walked off.

"Thanks, same to you," she said, over her shoulder.

Sid was glad.  She was down-and-out when she first walked up, he could tell.   Then she was curious.  Now, she sounded like she was on top of the ball again.

It was great, not having to see.

 *****

As it happened, Shanna had come to the Big Apple from someplace called the Savage Land (Mimi knew enough neighborhoods in town that fit the monicker) and was rumored to be on the trail of somebody while her significant other, Ka-Zar, did some TCB back come.  But she was also giving a speech at a fundraiser at the Bronx Zoo at 3:00.  It was 12 noon.

"Cripes," Mimi said, and ran back into the gym.   The girls were still going through the paces.  Sushi was using a body scissors-full nelson combo on Cowgirl and really working it.  Mimi ran right up to the edge of the mat.  "Susie, you've gotta lend me some money," she said.  "I've gotta get across town real fast."

Sushi, the Asian wrestlerette in a red swimsuit, grunted and said, "Mimi, this is not the time to dun me."

Cowgirl groaned and said, "Whattya gotta go across town for, Meem?  Can'tcha get the money from Auntie?"

The others were starting to notice the conversation.  Sotto voce, Mimi said, "It's gotta be secret.  But it's like important to the max.   If it works, it could be something good for us...and for me.  C'mon, Sushi, I'll owe ya one, I really will."

Sushi, aka Susan Hayakawa, sighed.  "Scout's honor?"

"Pinky square."

"Deb, don't let ‘em take our place," said Sushi, and released Cowgirl from the hold.   The Oklahoma redhead in the purple and white outfit took five, lying on the mat and twiddling her thumbs.  Sushi hustled to the locker room and came back with cash.  Auntie was ambling over towards them.  "What's going on?" she demanded.

"I'll tell you later, Auntie, but don't worry," said Mimi, hiding her hands in her coat pockets.  She was crossing both sets of forefingers.

Sushi handed over the bills.  Mimi pecked her on the cheek.  "Thanks.  Back later."  She ran out.

Auntie Freeze sighed.  "I'm really beginning to worry about that broad."

"I will too, Auntie," said Sushi, "if she doesn't bring me back change.  You ready, Deb?"

"Oh, yeah," said Cowgirl.

And Sushi put her back in the scissors and full nelson, and Cowgirl resumed her groaning.

 *****

Mimi caught the subway to the zoo and was forced to make conversation with the lady beside her, who wondered if she was a mime.  Finally, she was allowed to go back to reading the newspaper, and trying to firm up what she had in the way of a plan.

The Bronx Zoo was a fun place to go in a part of the city that wasn't exactly picturesque.  Mimi wished she had the time to check it out in full, but she'd been there before.  And the prey she was hunting wouldn't take long to find.  She hoped.

She paid her $7.75 at the front gate.  "Are you a clown?" asked the ticket seller.

"Yes, ma'am, that's exactly right," said Mimi.  "This is my day off.  It's just too much of a hassle to take off the makeup in between shows."

"Oh," said the lady, and handed Mimi her ticket.

Mimi scurried through the crowds, thankful she'd been there before.  Africa, the section where Shanna was giving her talk, was way the hell on the other end of the park.  She checked her watch.  She wouldn't be in time for the start of it, but she'd be there pretty soon after.  So Mimi broken-field-ran her way through the throng of kids, adults, and oldsters, and tried not to bowl too many people over, especially if they were tour guides.

When she did jostle one such person and was grabbed by the arm, she put on her best desperation act and waved the newspaper before him, saying, "I'm a fan of Shanna's!  You've just got to let me go see her!"

"Well, all right, but don't go charging off like a rhinoceros," said the guide.  "She'll be talking for at least an hour.  Now, be careful."

"Oh, thank you," Mimi gushed, and was gone.

Finally, panting, she made her way to the Carter Giraffe Building and went inside.  She was sweaty, and looked less than her best, but she took a seat as close to the front of the room as she could get.  Ms. O'Hara had drawn a decent-sized crowd.  She was wearing a regular pantsuit, which must have been disappointing to the men.

Shanna was gorgeous.

Acres of red locks framed her face and waterfell down her back.  Full lips, green eyes, high cheekbones, all the fashion model's standard equipment.  Not too much makeup.  She didn't look like she needed it.  She wore gold bangle earrings (Mimi wondered if those would get caught in tree branches when she swung through them, somehow) and her face gave an impression of confidence and strength, under all that prettiness.

Below that, what Mimi could see beneath the fashionable black pantsuit suggested that she had the standard bathing suit model's equipment, too.  She was probably muscled more like a fitness competitor than a bodybuilder.  Mimi liked that.  It was the kind of build she had, as well, though she wondered how her body would compare to Shanna's.

Her reaction surprised her.  Instead of being jealous of Shanna's looks, mien, and status, Mimi found herself appreciating the woman.

But she checked herself.  To make this bit work, she was going to have to be a bitch.  At least, on the surface.

"I used to work at the Municipal Zoo," Shanna was saying.  "But I made it a point to visit every facility in the city, and as many as I could in the state and Jersey.  One of the things that drove me, both as a zoo worker and a visitor, was the realization that some of the animals I worked with or saw would be gone, as a whole species, if somebody didn't care for them properly or see to it that they gave birth and their offspring survived.  One of the greatest pleasures I've had today is going to your ‘dark' section and seeing the snow leopards.   I've never even seen their kind in Africa.  You have a duty to help them stay alive, to help all animals stay alive.  Whether in the wild, in preserves, or in zoos such as this one, we don't have the right to arrogate survival to just our own kind."

She'd given a slide-show presentation after that, of some of the endangered species she'd encountered in Africa, and Mimi was impressed with how many animals were on that list.  A few minutes into the show, a shot of her posing beside a rhino came up.  She was dressed only in a leopard-skin bikini, with a bracelet of the big cat's teeth about one calf, and she was barefoot, smiling for the camera, a female Tarzan.  The room erupted in a chorus of sighs, whistles, and cheers.   When the ruckus died down, Shanna brought down the house by saying, "Yes, I agree.  That is a very attractive rhino, isn't it?"

After the slides were done, she did the questions-from-the-audience bit.  No, she couldn't say much about the Savage Land, other than that it was her favorite place to live, followed by Africa and New York.  Yes, she and Ka-Zar, her Kevin, were an item, but that was all she cared to say about it.  Her "working outfit" really was leopard skin, made from the pelt of a dead female.  She'd made it and worn it to gain the trust of the female's two cubs, and it had worked.  "Dr. Jane Goodall wrote and said that, all the same, she didn't think a gorilla bikini would work for her," Shanna said, and cracked the house up again.

About her "heroic" career, Shanna admitted that it was exciting, but also tragic in many ways.  Her parents, one of her first lovers, and her leopards Ina and Biri, had all been killed in the course of her adventures.  "And after meeting Nekra, I thought I'd be on the extinct species list, too," she admitted.  Luckily, she'd beaten back her powerful foe on several occasions.

When asked about the mission she was said to be undertaking, Shanna responded, "Sorry, I can't talk about that right now."  Another rube asked if she'd be posing for pictures later.  "Well," said Shanna, drawing out the word to about four syllables, for another laugh, "I'm not in my ‘working clothes' today, but I do have a stack of photos at the signing table, and I'll autograph them for five dollars apiece.  All the cash goes to the good old Bronx Zoo."  More cheers.  "If you've brought your cameras, I'll pose with you for the same charge...but you have to settle for what I'm wearing now."  The roll of chuckles came back.

"Any more questions?  No?  Okay, then, if you'll form a line by the table here--"

"Excuse me, Miss Shanna?"

The jungle girl looked in the direction from which the voice had come.

She did a double take.

A woman in the craziest face-paint she'd seen this side of a war party in the Savage Land was standing there, her coat over one arm, in some kind of bathing suit-cum-ballerina getup.  Shanna tensed, getting ready to roll up her pants leg and go for the knife she had strapped to her calf, if she had to.

"I'm not a super-villain.  I'm a wrestler.  The name is Screaming Mimi Schwartz.  And I'm challenging you to meet me later on in a match.  My pay can go to the zoo fund.  You can do what you want with yours.  But where I come from, the asphalt jungle's a lot tougher than any hidden jungle.  And I want a piece of you, baby!"

Before she'd finished the speech, the flashcubes started going off and the videocams were in action.

Feeling her guts turn to water, Mimi nonetheless summoned her showgirl's pizzazz and sauntered over to Shanna, who was in a combat stance.  She stood with her hands on her hips, her coat dropped on the floor behind her.  She looked defiant.  The shots of this scene would make the cover of the Post tomorrow.

But she said something to Shanna low enough that only the jungle girl could hear her.

"Please, honey, I need your help. Maybe I can help you, too. Will you let me explain, after you're done here?"

In the same low tone, Shanna asked, "Are you on drugs or something?"

"No."

Then she sighed and said, "All right.  All right.  Please, go sit back down, and I'll talk with you after the session.  Okay?"

"Absolutely.  Thank you."

And Mimi picked up her coat and went back to her seat, with a cluster of newsies homing in on her in a feeding frenzy.

After a couple of minutes, Shanna said, "Mimi, come over here."  Obediently, the girl in the facepaint went over to Shanna's table, and sat beside her and the zoo official and a redheaded guy in shades who, apparently, was her escort.

"For ten bucks, you can get a shot of Mimi and I together," said Shanna.  Out of the side of her mouth, she said, "This had better be good, kid, or I'll turn you over to the mercies of my friend, here."

Mimi swallowed.  "Is he your bodyguard?"

"Worse.  He's my lawyer."

"Oh."

And Mimi and Shanna posed and signed pictures for a solid hour afterwards.

 II

Mimi was prepared to hold the phone seven inches from her ear when she learned that Auntie Freeze was on the other end.  Luckily, it took awhile for Auntie to build steam towards that.

"Mimi," she said.  "Once I stop speaking, you will have the opportunity to convince me why the hell I should not fire you, sue you, and boot your butt out into the street.  When I resume speaking, you will know that you are expected to shut up. Start talking now."

She was sitting at a table in Shanna's hotel room, with the jungle-lady herself curled up in robe and bare feet on the bed.  They had been talking for a good forty-seven minutes.  Now Mimi prayed that God would transmit power to her straight from the Blarney Stone, over which He was bound to have jurisdiction.

"Um, it's like this, Auntie," she said.  "I'll admit it, I did it mostly for me, but partly for you, as well.  Let's face it, a match against Shanna the She-Devil is great publicity.  For you, and for the show.  She's going to donate her take of it to the Bronx Zoo fund, and I'm going to sock away part of my fee for it there, too.  It's a new angle, Auntie, it's a way to get us attention, sell the marks some tickets.  I mean, thanks to that squib that ran in the news breaks, and the stuff that's going to be on the evening news real soon, the whole city'll be talking about us, not just the marks.  We'll have the place packed out.  And, hey.  This is Shanna, the She-Devil.  The gal who wears a bikini to work, for cryin' out loud."

Shanna rolled her eyes to the ceiling, but said nothing.

"I mean, Auntie, have you seen her looks?  This is serious Sports Illustrated bikini issue material we're talking here!  Just put a shot of her in the advertisements--"

"No," said Shanna.

"--and we'll get guys hanging from the rafters just to watch this fight.  We're talking serious numbers of people here, Auntie.  The Beatles at Shea Stadium, y'know?  Michael Jackson's burned-hair-commercial tour.  Hulk Hogan vs. Andre the Giant.  This could have the TV people paying attention to us, Auntie.  It's not something we can afford to pass up.  If I thought it would've hurt us...would've hurt you, especially...then I wouldn't have done it.  I mean, crazy I've been known to be, but stupid, only on special occasions.

"Furthermore, I've talked up Shanna about it, and she thinks it'll be fun."  Mimi didn't mention what Shanna wanted in return.  It was best not to steam Auntie to a greater degree.  "I can let you talk to her afterwards, if you want.  But now comes the hard part, Auntie.  I have to tell you why I'm doing it for me."

Mimi drew in a big breath, sighed it out, and continued.

"You know it hasn't been easy for me these last few months.  I mean, hey, I'm not about to run out on the group.  I'm still holding Poundcakes's cape.  But I can wrestle, Auntie.  I'm a good wrestler.  You know that.  And I know that.  The only ones who don't know that are the marks.  Auntie, I'm hurting.  I want to get out there on that mat again, show ‘em my stuff, and let ‘em all know--hell, let myself know--that I've still got what it takes.  And this one ain't gonna be a fake.  It'll be a shoot, straight up."  She shot a look at Shanna.  "That is okay, right?"

"Wouldn't have it any other way," smiled Shanna, crossing her ankles.

"She agrees to it.  The thing is, I'll go back to what I have to do.  What you want me to do.  But just this once, I want to really wrestle.  And after that, it'll be back to the grind."

She started to say something else, then Auntie cut in.  "Let me speak to Shanna."

Mimi gulped, then held out the phone.  "Miss O'Hara, she wants to talk to you."

She passed the phone to Shanna, still lying in her purple robe, and waited, trying to pick up every clue she could from hearing one end of the conversation.  Mimi appreciated Shanna even more after having talked to her, observed her, and convinced her of her desperation and that she really didn't have anything against her.  Sure, it was crazy.  But wasn't parading around in a bathing suit with a jungle man in someplace where dinosaurs still stomped the landscape a little nuts, too?  There were lots of girls in the troupe that were stronger than her, true.  But not without enhancements.  The redhead moved like a jungle cat and had the control of a ballerina.  If she hadn't gotten to like her, Mimi admitted she would've been jealous as all hell.

"No, ma'am, I don't mind," said Shanna.  "I have to admit it's not what I came here for, but if I can work it in, I'll do it.  Well, how many pterodactyls have you folks gone up against?  Compared to that, and some of the bad guys I've fought, this ought to be a refreshing little change.  Plus I'm sure my guy Kevin will be drooling all over the videotape when I bring it back to him.  Our set runs off a small generator.  Yes, I'll sign a disclaimer first.  No, actually, she's a very nice girl.  Just a little mixed-up at times."  She winked at Mimi, and Mimi hugged herself and kept praying.

"Just one thing.  Mimi will be staying here with me at the hotel for a night or so, to get some of the basic moves and stuff down.  I know jiu-jitsu, karate, some of the other stuff, so it shouldn't be a big problem.   Okay.  All right.  Yes, I'll let you talk to her."

She handed the phone back to Mimi.  Hail, Auntie, thought Mimi, we who are about to die salute you...

"Mimi," Auntie said, "I have one thing to tell you first and foremost: if you ever, ever, ever try this again without consulting me, you will be on your feet one moment and your butt the next, and there will be at least ten seconds in between in which you do not touch the ground, and the spot where you come to land will be firmly outside my door.  And then I will slam the door in your face.  Got that?"

"Got it, Auntie."

"Furthermore, if I don't see similar chutzpah from you as what you have demonstrated here today when I am asking for ideas, for input, for ways we can keep the damned wolf away from the door, I will do similar as I have described just now, except that it will involve being thrown out a second-story window.  Clear?"

"As crystal, Auntie."

"I ought to have you canned," said Auntie.  "I really ought to.  If Shanna doesn't show up for that match, I will.  And you'd better show as much moxie in that match as you have in pulling that stunt today, or I will personally get Poundcakes to stand on your hands for half an hour, and assure her that it's nothing personal.  Capeesh?"

"I understand, Auntie."

"Good.  Now I want you both to be available for some build-up.  We've got a lot of bells to ring, and only about two days to get ‘em rung."

"We'll try, Auntie," allowed Mimi, looking at Shanna.  "But first, me and Shanna have some business to take care of.  I'll talk to you soon."

"WHAT?"  Shanna heard it clearly from where she was at.  "Hey, I cut you some slack, and already you think that the collar's off your neck?  You listen here, you ungrateful little..."

Mimi hung up the phone.

Shanna doffed her robe and stood there in her working clothes.  Mimi gave a gasp of appreciation.

"We'd better get started," said Shanna.

 ****

New York has an awful lot of places for dirty deals to happen, and an awful lot of people to which they can happen, which are two of the reasons super-villains like to make it their hangout.  There is the problem of super-heroes, but all pro criminals will tell you that you don't stop doing stuff if you're too worried about getting caught, unless you're too chicken to start doing it.

Shanna and Mimi, in coats and heels, had taken a car to a certain dock where a large ship was putting in.  The jungle lady had a hand-held device with her that Mimi took for a Geiger counter.  "It's not quite that, but it's similar," she said.  "It can detect what we're looking for."

"Which is, like, what?" asked Mimi, buried under a big floppy hat which she hoped would conceal most of her greasepaint.

Shanna said, cagily, "It's a certain element from the land where I'm living.  It's just as well the authorities don't know about it being here.  The government doesn't need to get its hands on this stuff."

Mimi whistled.  "Is this some sort of drug?"

"No," said Shanna.  "Trust me on this."  She undid her safety belt, got out of the car, and motioned for Mimi to join her.  Not too many passengers were getting off the vessel.  Some stevedores were taking care of crates being lowered down in netting by a crane on board.  The two women loitered in darkness by the side of a storage building, and Shanna pointed the detector at the crates as they were being lowered.  Mimi thought the the machine must have one hell of a range for her to be able to tell anything about the crates from there.

On about the third load, a blinking light showed up on the detector's screen.  "Bingo," said Shanna.

"We're not going to rush ‘em, are we?" asked Mimi.  True, she could use her sonic power to even the odds, but not before she knew what the score was.  Or if some of those guys unloading the stuff weren't armed.

"Not unless we have to," Shanna replied.  "They'll probably stash the crate in this building.  Let me try something."

Shanna doffed her coat, kicked off her shoes,  and stood revealed in her leopard bikini.  Mimi was glad that it was too dark for the guys on the dock to see them.  From a pocket of the coat, Shanna took a slim but strong line of cord, one end of which was looped like a lasso.  "Don't make any noise," warned Shanna, as she twirled the loop cowboy style and sent it over the edge of the roof.
The loop went over a roof pipe, just where she'd aimed it.  The redhead gave it a couple of tugs, then set her bare feet against the side of the building and scampered up like a G.I. scaling a Normandy cliff.

Mimi looked up at her.  Wow, she thought, you Tarzan and Jane, all in one.

Shanna looked down at her and hissed, "Come on."

"What?" said Mimi.  "You mean...me?"

"Yes, you.  Come on up!"

Mimi's eyes widened.   She took off the coat, folded it neatly, put it on Shanna's coat, and put her hat on top of that.

 "Come on!"

"Okay, okay," whispered Mimi.   Well, what the hell, she'd had to do this kind of number at Project Pegasus, too.

By the time she was over the roof's edge, the loading crew was there, one of them handling a forklift with a skid supporting one box.  Both women edged just enough of their heads over the top to see what was going on.

In the light that was available, Mimi caught glimpses of the men.  They looked tough, but wimps don't get hired to unload cargo.  Still, she thought she saw the bulge of a shoulder holster under the coats of a couple of them.

She tapped Shanna's shoulder, pointed her finger and thumb to make a gun-shape, then held up two fingers.  Shanna nodded, then held up three fingers.

Chances are, at least one, maybe two of these plug-uglies would be left behind to guard this thing, if it was as important as Shanna thought it was.  Mimi guessed they'd scamper off of the roof once the other three of the crew of five were gone, go back to the car, and call the cops.

One of the guys handed two others envelopes and said something to them.  Mimi guessed it was their pay, or part of it.  The two men took their positions flanking the garage-style door in front which was still open.  Neither Mimi nor Shanna could see the interior of the storage building from their position.

The three others walked off into the night.   Shanna padded silently back over the roof to the pipe where her lasso was tied.  She loosened it and slipped it off the pipe, then walked over, looped the end about a ventilator outlet, and, keeping hold of the rope, headed for the front edge of the roof.  Mimi looked at her, a question in her gaze.

"Get ready," muttered Shanna.

"What?" asked Mimi, as sotto voce as she could while in a state of astonishment.

"Here we go!"

With that, Shanna stood on the edge, facing the rear of the building, wrapped the rope around her wrist, and launched herself backward.

Mimi hustled over the tar and metal of the roof as the bikini-clad bomber shot out over space, then arced forward as she fell, spreading her bare feet at what she hoped was the correct angle.  The two guards, standing side by side, were expecting cops, other crooks, maybe even SHIELD or a super-type.

What they weren't expecting was a beauty queen in a leopard bathing suit swinging at them off the roof.

One of them had a chance to get out "Holy--" before her foot hit his face and knocked him backwards.  She clipped the other guy in the shoulder, swung in, lit on her feet, and smashed the one still standing with an elbow blow to the neck.  The other dude was sprawling, getting to a sitting position, and trying to swing his gun around at the same time.  Shanna vaulted over and kicked his hand, numbing his fingers and knocking the automatic away.

Mimi cursed, softly, launched herself over the edge of the roof, did a somersault on the way down, and made a two-point landing with an "Ooof!" at the point of impact.  If she popped her knees any worse than this, she estimated, she'd need titanium-reinforced knee braces afterward.  Disregarding it, she bounced to her feet and hauled tail inside.

Shanna was grappling with the guard who still had his gun, trying to keep him from bringing it down.  He was holding her other wrist to keep her from going for the knife in her calf-sheath.  "Come on, Louie, get your piece!", he yelled.  "Y'think I can hold her all night?"

"Wait a minute, wait a minute, Ally," snapped the other.  "She darn near busted my fingers.  Okay, here it is, hold on--"

He had the gun, but he had just gotten an eyeful of the white-haired, greasepaint-masked girl in the green ballet costume.  For a second, his brain went on input overload.

That was time enough for Mimi to scream.

The piercing sound went off like the mother of all air-raid sirens, or so it seemed to the three people unprepared for it.  The banshee beauty stood and delivered.  It was her only power, her one claim to fame, besides wrestling.  But she by-gosh knew how to use it.  And she did.

For Shanna and the two guards, the concrete floor below them, the iron and insulation of the building walls, the forklift and storage crates within shifted, wavered, parted, shimmered, made the She-Devil think of a Dali painting without a melting clock, and made the balance mechanism in their inner ears do a jig and give up.  The guard Shanna was fighting with went over on his back, forgetting about his gun for the moment, trying to keep the floor from flowing away from him like mercury.

Shanna felt much the same way, but concentrated on her foe, grabbed his head, shut her eyes, and banged it against the concrete floor which felt reassuringly solid.  Within a few seconds, he stopped moving, though the pulse in his neck told Shanna that he was only unconscious.

For her part, Mimi grabbed their other foe, took his gun arm, and brought it down across her outstretched knee.  He yelped in pain.  It wasn't strong enough to break his arm, but it was enough to make him drop the gun.

Then she pulled him to his feet, grabbed him by the collar and shoulder as he floundered, and rushed forward, smacking his face into one of the metal beams that supported the walls.  He groaned and slumped, blood coming out of a busted nose, and joined his fellow in dreamland.

Mimi collected his gun, decided she didn't want it, stepped outside, and pitched it into the darkness by the side of the building.  Then she went back inside.  Shanna was sitting in a lotus position, her eyes shut, trying to get her world back in kilter.  Mimi put her hand on her shoulder.  "It's me, honey.  Both of ‘em are out of it.  You should be okay in a minute or so."

Shanna opened her eyes, tentatively.  "Thanks," she said, looking at a Mimi that was a foot to the right of where Mimi actually was.  "That's some power you've got there."

"Comes in handy sometimes," Mimi allowed.  "Let me help you up.  If you want that crate, you'll have to show me which it is."

There were at least twenty crates in the building, but Shanna allowed Mimi to help her to her feet and leaned on her as they walked over to the area where it had been taken.  The jungle queen blinked, trying to get her sea legs back, and pointed at an area six inches to the right of a specific crate.  "That one."

"This one?"  Mimi put her hand on the crate six inches to the left of the point.

"That's it."

Mimi hefted it, gauged its weight, said, "Watch your feet," and swung it off of the two crates it rested on, dropping it on the ground.  "Now what?"

"Whew," said Shanna, her world coming into the final phase of reintegration.  "What's in there shouldn't be that heavy.  Probably a ceramic cylinder with a couple of plastic rings around it.  Let's get the crate open and the two of us should be able to muscle it back to the car."

"Sounds great to me," Mimi replied.  She looked around the area, saw a toolshed area, and scampered back in a minute with a crowbar.  In another minute, she had popped open the top of the crate, then knocked open a side of the box.

Within it was a metal framework supporting a cylinder which was, indeed, of ceramic material with white plastic rings holding its halves together.  Mimi guessed it was hazardous material.  She hoped it wouldn't leak.

"Help me," said Shanna, and the two of them turned the framework on its side and slid the cylinder out.  It was heavy enough, but, as Shanna had predicted, both of them could handle it.

And just as they were about to pick it up, someone said, "That's far enough."

Both women whipped their heads up.

Standing in the doorway were four men in yellow jumpsuits, with helmets that resembled hatboxes with metal grilles over the eye areas.  They all held guns, and all of them were pointed at Shanna and Mimi.

"AIM," said Shanna.

"Aim what?" asked Mimi.

"If you please, ladies, step away from the cylinder," said the leader of the foursome.  "You have three seconds to comply.  Two..."

Shanna put the crowbar under one plastic band, popped it open.

"One."

She popped the other band, yanked the two halves of ceramic casing apart, and exposed its payload.

Mimi, despite her terror, looked down at what had been inside the cylinder.  It was another cylinder, metallic in aspect, and gleaming like no metal she had ever seen before.

Several things happened, almost at once.

First, the guns in the hands of the AIM agents disappeared, seemingly, and left them holding dust.

Second, the big forklift in the room collapsed into a pile of metallic dust, rubber, and fluids.

Third, the walls and ceiling of the entire room began to buckle inward, turning into dust before the shards of themselves could fall upon the persons inside the structure.  All that was left was the insulation, some plastic wiring housing, whatever wood had been used, and some fragments of glass.

All of this occurred within five seconds, and left the AIM men ankle-deep in metallic dust, their metal grilles vanished, their eyes smarting, and their mouths alternating coughs and cursing.

Shanna quickly clamped the ceramic cylinder's halves back together, her bare back shiny with steel dust.  Mimi, whose hair was coated with the stuff, looked at her.

"Anti-metal," said Shanna.  "Let's get ‘em."

The women surged forward.  Some judicious screams and punches later, they were victorious.  For a trophy, Shanna stole the yellow pants of one of the AIM men (who wore boxers), used them to tie the halves of the cylinder together again, and, with Mimi's help, womanhandled it back to their car.  They dumped it in the back.

"I'd better sit back here with it," said Mimi.  "If this pops open again, we're going to be dragging our backsides on asphalt and dodging tires."

"Sounds good to me," Shanna replied, and took the wheel.

They motored off.

Mimi looked at her hands and at Shanna's gray-streaked form, and decided that, no matter how tired she was tonight, a bath was the first order of business.

 III

She woke up around 11 the next morning in a room in the hotel Shanna had rented for her overnight.  Since she hadn't brought anything with her but her Screaming Mimi outfit, she slept starkers, with the covers up around her neck.  When Mimi finally turned her woozy head to the right, she saw the message light was lit on the telephone beside the bed.

Mimi, who had scrubbed the greasepaint from her face along with the grime, stretched out her hand, lifted the receiver, and dialed the message service number for the hotel.  "Mimi, it's Shanna.  Give me a call in 1537 when you finally rejoin the living.  Thanks."

Several seconds later, Shanna was talking to her.  "You missed so much, sleepyhead.  I called up the Fantastic Four and had them come get the package.  It's on its way back home right now.  Are you feeling okay?"

"Sure.  Fine," yawned Mimi.  "Good thing I missed it.  I don't think the Thing would enjoy seeing me again.  Thanks for renting me the room."  She looked at her costume, hanging from a wire hanger in the closet area.  "I think I'm gonna have breakfast sent up, though.  My suit's bound to smell as sweaty as it does after a match."

"Go look outside your door, punkin, and then come up once you've eaten.  Hold on, somebody else wants to talk to you."

She heard Shanna handing the phone to someone else, and then heard: "Mimi, this is Auntie.  Get dressed, get fed, and get your bottom up here quick."

"Yes, ma'am," said Mimi, bounding out of bed.

Auntie clicked off.  Mimi pulled the top cover off of the bed, wrapped it around herself toga-style, and cautiously unlocked the door and poked her head outside.

Hanging on the outer doorknob was a blue sweatsuit in a plastic bag.  A Post-It note pinned to the outside read:

 This ought to keep you from having to wear the drapes. ;-)
 S.O'H.

Mimi turned a bit pinkish, and smiled.

 ****
Auntie was talking to her as the three of them sat in Shanna's suite.  Mimi was awfully glad Shanna was around, or, she suspected, the old girl would revert to her drill instructor persona.

"I decided to fire you about twenty times when you bugged out on us, and persuaded myself not to about twenty and a half," Auntie was saying.  "If Miss O'Hara--"

"Ms. O'Hara, Auntie," said Shanna.

"Sorry, if Ms. O'Hara hadn't been so nice about it all, you'd be circulating your resume to the WWF.  Now, we've got work to do.  Here."  Auntie reached into her open purse and produced two tubes of greasepaint.  "Get made up, and get into that spare costume I brought you.  There are reporters downstairs, and we've kept them waiting long enough."

Shanna said, "Mimi can show up in her outfit, Auntie, but I'm not wearing my working clothes till the night of the match."

"So?  You think if Christie Brinkley wears a dress, the guys have forgotten what she looks like under it?  You'll pass.  But Mimi without her greasepaint is like that Gene Persimmons without that horrible makeup."

The redhead looked at Mimi, who was heading for the bathroom, spare costume in hand.  "I think she looks pretty, myself."

When Mimi remembered to pick her jaw off the floor, she mumbled, "Thank you," and went in to do her makeup.

Shanna said, "Auntie, you go ahead and warm up the boys for us downstairs.  We'll be along in a minute."

"You want to get rid of me all of a sudden?" asked Auntie.  "Next thing I know, somebody'll be coming to cart me off to the nursing home.  That's always the way it is."

"No, it isn't, Auntie," said Shanna.  "I want to talk to Mimi.  Have a good time with the newsies."

"I always do," Auntie replied, and left.

Mimi finished costuming herself and transforming her face.  She slipped on her ballet slippers and, bare navel and all, came out to see what Shanna wanted.  The lady was sitting on her bed, barefoot, in a blouse and skirt, and hugging her knees.  She wasn't looking at Mimi.

"Shanna?  What's wrong?"

Still not looking at her, Shanna said, "I don't know what I've gotten myself into, Mimi.  Do you still think this is going to help you if I do it?"

"Oh, you better believe it," said Mimi, sitting beside Shanna on the bed.  "Do you think I would've gone through all I have so far, if I didn't want to do this match?  Shanna, I want to get back on the mat.  I have to.  If I don't...something's gonna die inside of me.  I promise you that."

Shanna sighed.  "Mimi, I just...well, can I tell you something?"

"Sure.  Like what?"

The jungle girl looked at Mimi.  "I've never done anything like this before.  I'm going to be up in front of five jillion people in a bikini, and I'm afraid I'm going to look, well, awfully stupid."

"You will not.  Your body could give Raquel Welch's a run for its money.  I'm going to look stupid, in this crazy paint and my ballet suit with the tummy cut out and my little green slippers.  You'll look like a heroine.  A super-heroine."

Shanna said, "Well, don't you think you qualify for that, too?  After last night?"

Mimi paused.  "Me?"

"Yeah, you.  Who do you think I meant, Susan Storm Richards?  Do you think it would have been so easy for just me to take on all of those AIM goons by myself?"

"But you could have.  I saw you swinging down like Tarzan."

"Maybe. But it would have been a lot harder.  They only posted those two guards because the pickup was going to be quick, and because they thought only I was going to be facing them.  AIM knew that I didn't dare let on about that hot cylinder of anti-metal.  The government's been wanting to get its hands on that stuff for a long time now.  They figured that the two idiots could at least have kept me busy long enough for them to get there.  Then they probably would have killed me."

"I doubt that," said Mimi.  "You always looked like you were a step and a half ahead of them."

Shanna said, "Sometimes that's enough, sometimes it's not.  I was considering getting somebody to go with me, maybe Daredevil or the Black Panther.  They've both worked with Kevin, and DD has worked with me.  But they were known quantities, and I think AIM could have been prepared for them.  You came along, and I knew you were someone they hadn't counted on.  I thought you looked like you had enough moxie--"

"Me?"

"Yes, you.  And that's why I decided to kill two birds with one stone.  If I agreed to the match, I could get you in as a partner.  So, I suspended my better judgment, told myself wrestling might be a hoot, and the rest is history."

Mimi said, "What if I'd blown it?"

"Then we would've been in a lot worse trouble than we were," said Shanna.  "But you didn't.  Did you?"

"No," Mimi said, wonderingly.  "No, I guess I didn't blow it."

Shanna took Mimi's hands in hers.  "Mimi, you spend a lot of your time running yourself down.  And it's true, you don't seem to be doing what you want to do.  But there's a lot more to you than you give yourself credit for.  You're pretty, you're physically strong, you handle yourself pretty well, you've got that screaming power that nobody else has in the whole world, and you've got guts enough not only to perform in front of thousands of people, but to do something you don't really want to do in front of all those people, too, and do it well.  Now, tell me, dear, don't you think somebody who can do all that deserves a little credit?"

Mimi sighed.  "I guess I haven't thought of it like that before.  I just keep thinking of Daddy, and what he did to me, and Mom being up in the joint, and me getting sent up twice, and all that, and...oh..."

"Don't cry, dear, if you wipe your eyes you'll mess up your greasepaint."

Mimi hugged Shanna fiercely.  "You know something?"

"What, dear?"

"I didn't know somebody I'd never met before yesterday could be one of my best friends in the whole wide world.  And don't you worry about your stage fright.   Once I get you in one of my holds, you're going to be so mad at me you won't even think about all those marks in the front row."

"You promise?"

"You betcha."

 *****

The rest of the day, and most of the next, passed quickly.  The other Grapplers gave Mimi a heroine's welcome for having pulled off the publicity stunt, and Poundcakes hugged her so hard Mimi was afraid she'd have to be peeled off ‘Cakes's chest.  All of them seemed glad to meet Shanna, too, and wanted to hear her war stories about living a Johnny Weissmuller dream and fighting super-villains.  Mimi guessed that, to them, Shanna was an Uptown Girl, but thankfully didn't act like it.  When Shanna finally peeled down to her leopard bikini in the gym, the girls let up a big hammy WOOOO of approval.  The jungle girl smiled and, incredibly enough, blushed.

Auntie had her go through some moves with Letha, Cowgirl, and Gladiatrix, with the girls holding back to compensate for their strength enhancement.  Once Shanna was informed that jiu-jitsu chokes were verboten, she seemed to do fine.  But Auntie wouldn't let Mimi go near her.  "No run-throughs before the match," she said.  "You wanted a shoot, now you've got one.  You've also spent a day bonding with this gal.  From here until the match, she's going to be your enemy."

"The gal I'm fighting, yeah," said Mimi.  "An enemy, no."

Auntie Freeze gave her an unkind look.  Then she dug in her purse and handed her an envelope.  "Here.  I want you and Sushi to go to Chauncey's Gym and work out.  This note will explain things to him.  I want you and the leopard lady to be apart till the match."

"But, Auntie--"

"Mimi."

Mimi sighed, got her coat and purse from the locker room, and met Sushi in the gym area.  "Let's go," she said.

"Have you got my money?" asked the Asian girl.

"Not yet."

"I'm tacking on interest."

Mimi sighed and got them a cab outside.

 *****

They did interviews, in which Mimi and Shanna showed their friendship but faked a little hostility for showmanship.  Mimi finally hammed it, pointing at the camera and yelling, "I'm gonna show this jungle-beach-party bimbo what it's like in the Asphalt Jungle!  I'm gonna have me a Shanna-skin rug once this match is done!  And I'm gonna send her back to her Ka-Zoo honey C.O.D., in several separate packages!  But I'm not gonna write him a letter, on account of I don't think he can read!  After this one, she's gonna see...that the only She-Devil in town...is Screaming Mimi!"  At that, she let out one of her patented war-whoops.

For her part, Shanna played the face, acted nice for the cameras, but finally did her trash-talking bit, just as coached.  Okay, Shanna, she thought.  Let's pretend you're a Lee Strasberg actress.  Do the Method.

"If it wasn't for the Bronx Zoo needing the money, I wouldn't soil the bottom of my feet with the mat that she's going to be walking on...when she isn't lying flat on her face," Shanna began.  "Mimi crashes my speech, she says she wants a piece of me, and she thinks that she's a tough cookie from the back alleys of the big city.  Well, Mimi, let me tell you something.  When you've gone one-on-one with a rock python, when you've ridden the back of a sabre-toothed tiger, when you've fought a dinosaur for your life with just your muscles--" She reached through the slit in her long skirt and pulled a new hunting knife out of her calf-sheath.  "--And one of these," she said, holding it up as the photogs snapped pictures.  "Then you can tell me about how big and brave and strong you are, in that little ballerina outfit of yours and that hokey face-paint out of a kiddie show--no, a freak show--because I wear a leopard suit, baby.  And nobody who isn't tough enough to make it in the jungle can wear one of those.  I've run with the big cats.  And in the ring, I'm going to sharpen my claws on one whimpering little kitten.  When she screams in this match--it isn't going to be because she wants to!"

She winked to let the newsies know it was all in fun, and they laughed and wrapped up their taping.  Shanna went back to her room, leading her friend, Matt Murdock, the blind lawyer.

"You sounded nervous, Shanna," he said, standing near the door as she flopped on the bed.  "You're not afraid of this match, surely."

"No," she said.  "Yes.  Honestly, Matt, I'm not afraid of wrestling with her.  I'm just not used to, well, doing this sort of thing for sport.  For entertainment.  My gosh, I dress the way I do because that's the only sensible way to dress in that sort of climate, not because I'm a strip-teaser."

"I'm not exactly an authority on women's dress," Matt said, smiling.  "Or on their looks.  But from the sound of your voice, and the way I've heard men react around you, I don't think you have anything to worry about."

"I suppose not," she said, simpering.  "I'm proud of my body, proud of my looks, but mostly proud of my brain and strength.  I haven't been onstage, except for speaking, since I did Twelfth Night in college.  Now, it's like I'm the main act in an old beach movie.  I feel dumb."  She tussled with a pillow.  "If it wasn't for that kid down there, I'd never do it."

Matt said, "Tell me about her, then."

Shanna turned face-up on the bed, still in her blouse and skirt.  "Cinderella.  She's like that.  Mimi's got a lot going for her, but she feels like her stepsisters are keeping her down.  Now it's like I'm her last ticket to the ball.  I can't pull out on her, Matt, not when she feels like that.  And I know she does."

"At least you didn't say you were Prince Charming."

She wadded the pillow in her hands.  "If you could see, you'd be running."

She tossed it, and it impacted the wall by the side of his head.  He was still smiling.

Shanna could have sworn he'd known just when to move.

 ******
The match itself was being televised live on a pay-per-view, but they'd managed to get more new subscribers to the service in the past two days than the outfit could ever have hoped for.  It was also being recorded for a video, to be released afterward.  "Which means," said Auntie sternly to Mimi, "you'd better put on one hell of a show."

The ring was at the Garden, and they charged five bucks extra a pop to see the Shanna / Mimi match.  Mimi did her valet bit in Poundcakes's earlier match with Butterball, but this time ‘Cakes carried Mimi into the ring on her shoulders, and the greasepainted gal got the biggest holler of the night thus far.  After the match, she and her partner had gone back to the dressing area and ‘Cakes gave her a last minute rubdown, while Auntie laid down the law.

"This isn't going to be a put-up job, you know," said Auntie.  "I'm putting a lot of trust in you, Mimi."

"I know, Auntie, and I'm like really, really thankful for it," said Mimi, as ‘Cakes gently pounded her back with the edges of her hands.  "Don't worry, you'll get your show."

"‘Don't worry,' she says," mocked Auntie.  "Honey, I am in the midst of a three-Maalox heat.  All I ask is that you put on the fight of your life, keep your head, and remember: you like this girl, she likes you, but she is tough.  You don't hang out with dinosaurs just because you've got looks like Raquel Welch."

"Yes, Auntie, I know," murmured Mimi.  "I've hung out with some beasts in my time, too.  Present company excluded, ‘Cakes."

"Hmph," said Poundcakes, and kneaded her shoulder muscles.

Auntie went to Mimi and held the girl's head between her hands.  "You're going to get hurt.  But if you get hurt too badly, I want you to know when to quit.  You understand?"

Mimi didn't say anything.

"I said, Mimi, do you--"

"I understand, I understand," said Mimi.  "I know when to quit, Auntie.  I'm not that Apollo Creed guy in Rocky IV.  But don't worry.  You're going to see one helluva fight."

Auntie sighed.  "That's what I'm counting on, dear."  And, she added mentally, that's what I'm afraid of, too.

Vavavoom opened the door partway and stuck her head in.  "Five minutes, Mimi."

Mimi rose from the table and adjusted her suit.  "Okay," she said.

She began the walk to the entrance tunnel, Auntie and Poundcakes in her wake, and none of them were talking.

 *****

Mimi had made her entrance, to the biggest wall-of-sound crowd roar she'd ever heard, and felt the flop sweat in her palms, but kept going.  The PA system was playing her theme:

 "She's like the doll from your strangest dream,
 Her name's Mimi--call her a Scream
 She'll blow your mind and your eardrums today,
 She's Screamin' Mimi--get out of her way!"

"My god," she said, "They're all yelling for me."

Auntie looked at her.  "They'd better be."

She waved at the marks, smiled, saw them holding up GO MIMI signs, even saw a few little girls in paper masks painted to look like her makeup.  She shook hands with the ones who stuck their arms over the railing, and Poundcakes kept herding her onward.

It was all for her.

Well, and Shanna, too.  But a lot of it was for her.

Mimi drew in a big breath, hurried down the rest of the runway with the rent-a-cops keeping the nutcases back, and parted the top and middle ropes of the ring to enter it.  Once inside, she bowed to the crowd on all four sides, jumped onto the top rope and posed there with her arms raised, her gymnast's skills keeping her balanced there as she heard the roars reverbrate over and over and over again.  She leapt back down to the ring, did a cheerleader split to stretch, and leaped up again, one arm uplifted, smiling and nodding at the crowd.

And now a new theme was heard in the arena.

It was the Miami Vice theme.  (Shanna had wanted Copland's Appalachian Spring.  The promoters had wanted "Welcome To the Jungle".  They compromised.)  Four guys from the Bronx Zoo, wearing rented "jungle explorer's" gear complete with pith helmets, carried a wooden log-platform on their shoulders.

Sitting on the platform, her legs crossed in the lotus position, smiling, a white fur cape flowing from her shoulders, but the rest of her body revealed in the famous leopard bikini, was Shanna the She-Devil.

The crowd was on its feet, yelling.  Shanna was a homegirl, too, and they knew how to welcome their own.  Signs went up on cue, with slogans like SHANNA, QUEEN OF THE SAVAGE LAND--NEW YORK, WELCOME TO THE JUNGLE, MIMI, and SHE-DEVIL KICKS MIMI'S ***--plus a few which expressed admiring sentiments, none of which were suitable for the cameras.

"You know, guys," said Shanna as they neared the ring, "I think I could get to like this."

"Oh," groaned one of the men carrying her, "I hope not."

Shanna had the four bearers sidle the platform up within five feet of the ring, told them, "Hold steady," and crouched.  Then she launched herself up from it in a stunning somersault, gathering her knees in towards her and flipping herself completely around in the air, before she let her legs go and made a graceful two-point landing on her bare feet.

The crowd let up a cheer and the TV brass insisted that the camera crew do an instant replay of it, so they did.

The redheaded she-devil unclasped her white cape and passed it to one of the four zoo guys, showing off her magnificent body to the throng.  New York had waited a long time for this unveiling, and the audience indicated that it was worth the wait.  She paraded around the ring, doing the wave to the crowd, then drew the big knife from her calf sheath (her last one had been disintegrated in the dockside caper), passed it hilt-first to the referee, and then untied the sheath and gave him that as well.  He looked appreciative.  The crowd liked the leg show, too.

Mimi, standing at her corner with Poundcakes just outside the ring, said, "Now I know how the Toledo Tigers felt in All the Marbles when the Dolls made their entrance."

"Don't worry, Mimi," said ‘Cakes.  "In this one, you're the Doll, she's the Tiger.  Well, you know what I mean."

"Yeah, thanks," said Mimi.

The announcers did their shpiel, the referee summoned both women to center ring for the mumbo-jumbo, and Mimi and Shanna shook hands, and meant it.  Then both went to their corners, leaned against the turnbuckles, and waited for the bell to ring.

What am I doing here? thought Shanna.

I hope I haven't done something really, really stupid here, thought Mimi.

The bell rang.

 ****

The two athletic ladies were moving towards each other, circling in a yin-yang dance.  The referee stayed just outside their wake, ready to intervene if necessary, but willing to let them fight it out to a degree just short of injury.  Mimi noted Shanna's jaw was set in a sign of nervousness.  Well, may as well make her take the plunge...

The girl in the ballerina outfit moved in, deliberately giving her foe a big opening, and grabbed Shanna around the bare midsection, bulling her backwards.  She hoped Shanna would be smart enough to grab her around the head, and Shanna was.  The two of them ended up against the ropes.

"Not tight enough," said Mimi.

"Sorry," said Shanna, and tightened up on her headlock.

Mimi tried to act as though it was really costing her something to get free of the hold.  The ref was checking them.  But Shanna still wasn't bearing down hard enough on the headlock.  She's still trying to be nice to me, thought Mimi.

She was held at an angle to see Auntie's face at ringside.  Auntie could tell what was going on.  And she wasn't pleased.

Mimi pushed out of the hold with ease, grabbed Shanna's right arm, and twisted.  She did it for real.  The redhead grabbed her shoulder and yelped.  Mimi wrung the arm once more, and once more again.  By that time, Shanna had spun off her feet and hit the mat.  Mimi dropped to a butt-first landing on the mat herself, still holding Shanna's arm.  She put her slippered feet against the redhead's neck and armpit.

"What do you think you're doing?" snapped Shanna, incredulous.

Mimi grimly clamped her jaws shut, held tight to Shanna's wrist, and reared back.  The jungle girl howled in pain.

The crowd howled with excitement.

Shanna grabbed her hurting shoulder with her free arm, kicked the mat with her bare feet.  The ref asked her if she wanted to give in.  "No way!" shouted Mimi on Shanna's behalf, and pulled back on her arm again.  The jungle girl cried out and closed her eyes in pain.

But she was a long ways from submission, and Mimi was counting on it.

With a supreme effort, Shanna got to her feet, Mimi still holding tight to the arm stretch, and finally dislodged her opponent.  She stepped back, massaging her shoulder for a moment.

Mimi's leg lashed out and took her down to the canvas.

Within seconds, the girl in the greasepaint had her strong legs wrapped about Shanna's ribcage while her arms went under the redhead's armpits and her hands clasped behind her foe's neck.  She reared back, then pushed forward, and Shanna's backside whumped the mat in a bustle bounce.  Mimi followed up with more pressure on the body scissors and full-nelson.

It had to be this way, she grimly assured herself.  Shanna had to be made angry enough to fight her.

At that, Shanna arched her body up and, with a surge of strength, broke free from Mimi's full-nelson and then unwound Mimi's legs from her midsection.  Then she picked up Mimi by the crotch and shoulder, lifted her to shoulder height, and threw her clear across the ring, slamming her into a set of turnbuckles.

Woozily, Mimi thought: Looks like it worked, after all.

Shanna was charging her with fury in her eyes.

Mimi stepped aside and let her impact on the turnbuckles, then tried to grab her head from behind.  Shanna sent an elbow into her gut.  "Umph," said Mimi, just before Shanna grabbed her leg and upset her down to the mat.  Shanna was hanging onto the leg.

"Now you're going to get a little taste of the Savage Land," murmured Shanna.

Even as she groaned, Mimi couldn't repress a smile.  At least, for a second or two.

 ****

"This has turned into an unbeleevable kind of match," said Unnerving Irving Smedley, one-half of the TV announcing team.  "For awhile there, Roy, I thought Shanna, excuse me, Shanna the She-Devil, was headed for Mimi's trophy room.  Now she's caught fire, and this little beauty from Brooklyn had better look out if she doesn't want her makeup smeared all over the mat!"

Roy "the Assembler" Guiterrez, replete in bald head and handlebar mustache, replied, "But I wouldn't sell Screaming Mimi Schwartz short, Irv.  It really takes some guts to get in the ring with a big-game huntress like Shanna--"

"Excuse me, Roy, but I don't think Shanna's exactly a huntress, she's more of an animal advocate--"

"Well, can't she advocate ‘em and hunt ‘em at the same time?  I don't think that big butcher knife she passed to Sal D'Amato was used for opening V-8 cans.  I tell you, Irv, this girl has wrestled with pythons.  This girl has faced the charge of a bull elephant.  And for someone like Mimi to face her, after being a valet--"

"Roy, ‘scuse me, but Mimi has had a career as a wrestler before."

"Are you gonna stop interrupting me?  For Mimi to challenge her to a match, and then perform as well as she has so far, really tells you something about her strength, her skill, and her guts.  Nobody's gonna see her as just a valet after tonight.  And Mimi is really showing just how tough and strong New York beauties are raised.  I'll compare them to any women in the world."
"Shanna is from New York, too, Roy."

"That just proves my point.  Only somebody from New York would be able to go up against a jungle girl from the streets of New York City."

"I think you've got a point there.  Let's get back to the action."

 *****

After almost getting her leg twisted off by Shanna, Mimi had levered her opponent onto the mat, did a bit of stepover toeholding herself, then lay Shanna's leg out flat on the mat and knee-dropped to the thigh.  Shanna yelped, grabbed Mimi's white hair, and treated her to a head scissors that made her feel as though her brains would pop out like white stuff from a zit.  She was able to hang on, though, until Shanna had to ease the pressure and she could slip free.  Then she stood, hanging onto Shanna's ankles, and suplexed her onto her face.  Mimi elbow-dropped to Shanna's back and made it hurt.

"Ain't that easy, is it, jungle gal?" sneered Mimi deliberately as she tied up Shanna's bare legs.  She crisscrossed them at the ankles and leaned back to put as much pressure as she could into the double toehold.

Shanna moaned, groaned, and slapped the mat.  She was over her stage fright, by a long shot.  She wasn't even worried about five zillion people ogling her unclad body on a cable TV hookup.  All she wanted to do was get back at this crazy broad who was trying to give her a permanent pair of bowlegs, and get this stupid match over with.

Mimi was sitting on Shanna's crossed legs and using her hands to work on Shanna's bare feet.  It hurt.

Both of Shanna's hands came back, grabbed Mimi by the hair, and pulled her off.  Then she climbed on Mimi's chest, grabbed her by the shoulders, and started banging her head repeatedly on the canvas.

When she got tired of that, she was sure she could think up something else to do.

 *****

None of the Grapplers could stay in the dressing room with all of the action going on.  They had pulled up metal folding chairs at a close distance to the ring, and all of them were watching the fight first-hand.  Auntie had told them all, firmly, that anybody who tried to interfere in this match would be pink-slipped in the morning.  So they sat, white-knuckled, and cheered their least mighty but possibly most valiant member.

Poundcakes flatly insisted that Butterball and Magilla hold her arms to keep her in her seat.  She knew Shanna was a good egg, but she was petrified with concern for her little buddy.  When Shanna started banging Mimi's head on the canvas, that was it.  ‘Cakes stood up, both girls holding onto her arms, and pushed forward, hollering, "She can't do that to our girl!  She can't do that to our Mimi!"

She was dragging both Butterball and Magilla with her.  The other girls jumped up and tried to lend a hand to the two trying to restrain her, or to form a flying wedge in front of her.

Auntie Freeze stood up, turned around, and pointed straight at Poundcakes.  "Siddown and shuddup!  Now!"

Poundcakes stopped in mid-lumber and blinked.  "Yes, ma'am," she said, meekly.  Butterball and Magilla eased their grips and guided her as gently as they could back to her seat.

Auntie took her seat again.  Unseen by any of the others, she took a set of beads from her purse and ran them through her fingers, mouthing prayers.

 *****

Mimi had, soon enough, gotten fed up with being banged on the canvas and threw Shanna off.  Both girls met in mid-ring and attacked each other anew, headlocking, pulling hair, even sending knees to the gut.  By this time, even Shanna realized that their relationship, until the end of this match, was strictly business.

As such, she stopped holding back.

Mimi lunged at her opponent and found herself thrown straight over the top rope.  She couldn't even have testified that she felt any contact with Shanna's body.  All she knew is that she was airborne, and headed for concrete flooring if she didn't stop her flight.

The eyes of the Grapplers at ringside were agape in awe.

Luckily, Mimi did manage to snag the top rope with her right hand as she flew over.  The centrifugal force whipped her down, made her bang the back of her legs against the outer edge of the mat, and sent her sprawling over the cushioned border laid over the floor outside the ring.  She groaned, forcing herself up on hands and knees.  It hurt like hell.

Shanna wasn't coming after her, thank God.  If this had been a real grudge fight, Mimi reckoned she'd probably be getting her head bashed into a metal chair or the announcer's table.  The redhead had more class than that.  But the ref was counting, and if he got to 20 without Mimi returning to the ring, she'd forfeit the match.

Letha and Sushi were at Mimi's side in seconds, helping her back to her feet.  "Are you okay, honey?" asked Sushi, with a look of concern.  "Can you stand up?  You want us to throw in the towel?"

"Don't go back in, Mimi," said Letha, supporting Mimi on her left side.  "That bitch isn't worth it."

Mimi drew a shuddering breath and said, "She isn't a bitch, and this is worth it.  Let me go, gals, and thanks.  I can make this one on my own."

Reluctantly, they let go.  Mimi stood on her own, raised her fists in the air, got a cheer from the crowd.  The ref was up to 15.  Shanna was standing in center ring, looking concerned.  Mimi caught a look of relief on the redhead's face as she grabbed the top rope and swung herself over.

"Mimi, Mimi," Sushi called out.  "The money you owe me?  Forget about it!"

The white-haired wrestlerette in the greasepaint was already closing in on Shanna.  The jungle-queen looked battle-ready, but she said to Mimi, "I'm sorry.  I didn't mean to throw you that hard."

"You did just the right thing, Red," said Mimi, and tagged Shanna with a spin-kick to the rib cage.  She followed by doing a handstand, snagging Shanna's head between her crossed ankles, and whipping her foe to the mat.  Then she sat on Shanna's front and, reaching back, snagged her powerful, tanned legs beneath her shoulders.  Three seconds of keeping Shanna's shoulders to the mat like this would get her a winning pin.

D'Amato, the ref, had his hand going down for the two-count when Shanna flexed her legs and threw Mimi off.

Mimi whipped to her feet again, wiped spit off her mouth with her forearm, and grinned.  Shanna was hurtling forward.  Mimi feinted to the left, moved to the right, and landed a big knee to the jungle lady's labonza.  She was tough as a washboard down there, but even Shanna had to go "Umph!!" and double a bit.  The ballerina battler whacked Shanna with both fists on her shoulders and sent her down to the mat.  Then she Boston-crabbed her foe and really bent back her legs, putting a lot of pressure on the bikini-wearer's back.  After a few seconds, even Shanna couldn't hold back her groans of pain or mat-slapping.

She didn't expect to get a submission with this one, but Mimi hoped it'd hurt Shanna somewhat and give her a chance to catch her breath.  It was a hellaciously fast-paced fight.  Sweat was staining her underarms and making damp patches on her scanty outfit.  Even her greasepaint mask was probably running.  She panted with the effort of maintaining the hold.  The ref was bent down to Shanna's level, asking her the question.  She heard the redhead grunt, "No, no."  Then she heard Shanna give a yell of effort.

Trying to sustain the Boston crab was impossible.  Shanna managed to straighten her legs and throw Mimi off.

Before the Grappler-girl could regain her feet, she found herself picked up again by crotch and shoulder, and lifted to shoulder height.  She was expecting another body-slam.

Instead, Shanna went to one knee and, not using as much effort as she could have, but making it forceful nonetheless, dropped Mimi back-first over her outstretched knee.  She howled in pain.

The she-devil herself was stunned by her own brutality.  Good god, what's come over me?, she thought.  This isn't a fight to the death, it's just a stupid wrestling match.

Mimi was writhing on the mat.  Shanna looked at her in shame.  Then, resolving to end this quickly, she fell on her for the cover.

The redhead got pushed off.  Mimi crawled to the ropes, pulled herself up painfully, and stood facing her opponent.  Even Shanna was taken aback by the look on her face.

Without putting her bionic voicebox add-on into it, Mimi let loose a bloodcurdling scream that reverbrated throughout the arena, and leapt at Shanna, bearing her down to the mat.

*******

Unnerving Irving found his shpiel again, after a second of stunned silence.

"I've heard of Pier Six brawls before, but, Roy, if this match had taken place there, in my opinion, there wouldn't be a pier left by this time.  I tell you, these ladies are surpassing all expectations.  Even my expectations."

Roy replied, "I tell you, Irv, if this Shanna doesn't go into business after this as a female wrestler, it'll be the biggest disappointment since, well, since not getting Saddam Hussein out of power in Iran."

"That's Iraq, Roy."

"Iran, Iraq, who cares?  This woman really owes it to her public to continue in the ring.  She can advocate animals all she wants to in her free time.  I don't think we can be deprived of seeing her continue in the ring without making our opinions known.  I urge all of you folks out there to write her, in case of that Savage Land where she's from, and ask her to continue.  She owes it to herself, and to wrestling."

"Uh, Roy, I doubt that they can get mail there easily. But, folks, you might instead write Shanna courtesy of the Bronx Zoo here in New York, and add a contribution of money on behalf of that fine institution when you do, if you wish...I'm sure she'd appreciate it.  And how about that Screamin' Mimi, Roy?"

"Well, what the Assembler has to say about Mimi is this: the Grapplers have made a severe mistake in keeping this woman out of wrestling.  Her talents have obviously been underutilized.  Sure, she looks great as a valet. But, enhanced or not, it's time that Auntie Freeze and her coterie started getting her back on the mat, against opponents of Shanna's caliber.  If they don't get that white-haired wonder some more matches, Irv, all I can say is...they're nuts!"
"I'd say I'd have to agree with those sentiments, Roy," said Irv.  "But Mimi's taking an awful load of punishment down there right now.  Shanna seems to have kicked her jungle instincts into gear...and Mimi's really starting to suffer."

"Unfortunately right, Irv.  But you know what I always say...it isn't the one who suffers...it's the one who suffers most."

"Uh," said Irv.  "Well.  What he said, folks.  I think."

 *****

Shanna was trying to wring a submission from Mimi just about any way she could.  After their grapple on the mat, the jungle queen had taken command and battered Mimi back to the ropes, tossed her down, and grabbed both her wrists, raising Mimi to her knees. Then she placed a bare foot against Mimi's spine between the shoulder blades and wrenched her arms back in a painful surfboard hold.  Mimi howled in agony.

"Come on, Mimi, give up.  Please give up," begged Shanna.

The embattled woman shook her head from side to side.  The ref was on her left, asking, "What about it, Mimi? What about it?  It's your body.  Stay or give?  You've gotta tell me."

"Stay," shouted Mimi.  "AGHH!"  Shanna had pulled back again on her arms.  She ratcheted her head back, her eyes shut in pain.

The only thing the redhead could think of to do was to keep pressuring the hold until it broke down Mimi's stubbornness.  The look of torture on Mimi's face made Shanna disgusted with herself.  But until the girl gave up, there was little she could do about it.

Mimi didn't dare bite down on her lip.  She was afraid that, with what she was suffering, she might well bite through it.  Instead, she set her jaws tight, resisted the impulse to use her bio-scream to unfair advantage, and flexed the muscles in her back and arms.  Shanna was so incredibly strong.  She had no idea of how powerful the woman was, before this match began.

But, for all that, she had fought Shanna well, and had hurt her.  Even this bronzed jungle goddess could be hurt.  Even by a little girl in mime makeup and a ballerina skirt.

It couldn't end this way.  It just couldn't.

Mimi had no idea how many more seconds it took.  But somewhere along the line, one sweat-slicked wrist slipped free from a grip, and her arm swung forward to freedom.  Moving on instinct, the wrestlerette swung herself free, grabbed Shanna's hair, and got her other hand free.  Then she headlocked Shanna, dragged her belly-up over Mimi's outstretched knee, and freed one of her arms, maintaining the headlock with the other.

She slammed a fist into Shanna's abdomen three times, and could tell from the grunts of pain she was hurting her.

Shanna's arms were reaching for Mimi's head.  The tired white-haired girl pushed Shanna to the mat, then did a double knee-drop to the veldt-queen's belly.  The red head came up in shock, gasping out breath.  Using a move straight out of All the Marbles, Mimi smashed her back down.

Shanna got her legs around Mimi's head and tried to squeeze, but Mimi slipped free before she could really manage it.  Instead, she wound her own bare legs about Shanna's middle, locked her ankles, and levered her legs together as forcefully as she could.  She held one of Shanna's arms clamped under her armpit.  Mimi's body was trembling with effort. But she was going to keep this scissors on as long as it took--or as long as she could before Shanna got free.

The scissors was holding.  Shanna was trying to unhook Mimi's ankles with her free hand, but hadn't managed it yet.  She raised her backside off the mat by placing her feet flat against the mat and arching up, but Mimi got one of her arms free and whacked her in the stomach under the scissors and put her back down flat.  This had to be repeated twice more before Shanna got the idea.

Somewhere the crowd was making noise.  Cheering, probably.  Mimi didn't concentrate on it.  All it came down to was herself, Shanna, and this hold.  But there was no telling how long she could sustain it.  The girl in the leopard bikini was struggling, trying to get out of it, and Mimi knew she had a lot of power to spare.

Blood pounded through Mimi's temples.  She shut her eyes in effort.  Even if she got a free ride to the emergency room after this, it didn't matter a bit.  All that mattered was keeping this girl in this hold as long as she could.  However long that was.

If she couldn't manage a win with this, Mimi was pretty sure that Shanna would have no trouble pinning her spent body.  Assuming she didn't take revenge and twist Mimi into several different pretzel shapes before making her submit.

She was hearing gasps and groans.  It didn't matter.  Maybe Shanna was faking it.  It didn't matter.  She still held Shanna's arm prisoner, and sometimes the redhead tried wrestling it free, and sometimes she didn't.

The sweat ran down Mimi's thighs, and her leg muscles ached, and her exposed flesh was tomato-red with effort.

But she couldn't let go.

The ring was coming in and out of focus.  She shook her head from side to side to clear the vapors out of her skull.

But she couldn't let go.

She thought she heard Poundcakes yelling to her from ringside.  Maybe there were some others yelling at her, too.  Could be that was just more of the vapors.  Anyway, it was kind of nice to know they were on her side.

But she couldn't let go.

Shanna had given a last surge some time back...how long ago, she didn't know.  She wasn't looking at her, or much of anything else.  Her thighs, calves, ankles, all ached with overstrain.  She'd be lucky if she didn't need a wheelchair to get her back to the dressing room after this match.

But she couldn't let go.

There were three soft thumps, as if something was being held up and then allowed to fall three times.  Mimi noted that at the edge of her consciousness.

Then she felt somebody tapping her shoulder three times.  "Would you go away?" she yelled.  "I'm busy!"

She heard D'Amato's voice saying, "It's over, Mimi.  She's passed out.  You won."

"You're kidding."

"Nope.  Look at her."

Mimi looked.

Shanna was limp on the mat, her eyes closed, her arm flat where D'Amato had dropped it three times to check her condition.

"Let her go, Mimi," said D'Amato.  "I need to bring her around.  You've won."

"Oh," said Mimi.

 And then she let go.

The ref had to peel Mimi's legs off Shanna's body, slap Shanna a couple of times, check her pulse, and bring her back to the land of the living by the time the paramedics got there.  But, by that time, the ring had sustained an invasion of Grapplers, all of them helping Mimi to her feet, hugging her, kissing her cheek, and yelling things at her which she couldn't yet comprehend.

The press was broken by the ref, who parted the women to grab Mimi's hand and raise it high above her head, while Poundcakes supported her.  The announcer was already at the descending ring mike.  She did manage to hear what he said.  At least the tail end of it.

"...Your winnah...Screaming...Mi-Mi!"

After that, the only ones screaming were the crowd.

Mimi slumped against Poundcakes.  She saw a vague, small shape in front of her.

Auntie Freeze stood there, in her hat and veil, her purse in one hand and a set of rosary beads in the other.

"I knew these would come in good someday," she said, smiling.

 IV

Mimi awoke on the morning after.

She lifted her head, looked about her, and saw that she was within the hotel room Shanna had rented for her the other day.  There were others in the room, as well.  Three of them.  Poundcakes, Auntie, and Shanna.

‘Cakes was the first to notice her coming to.  "Hey, folks, Mimi's back with us," she smiled.  "How ya feelin', little buddy?  Ready for steak and eggs?"

"Oh, ‘Cakes," moaned Mimi.  "In a minute, I s'pose.  Did they have to amputate my legs?  Am I just feeling phantom pain down there?"

Shanna sat on the edge of the bed, smiling.  "You're fine, Mimi.  As for me, I'm going to have some interesting bruises around my ribs to explain to Kevin when I go home.  Maybe I'll just wear a one-piece for awhile."  She grasped Mimi's hand, lying there on the yellow blanket.  "How's it feel to be a winner, honey?"

Mimi said, "Shanna...I'm sorry."

"For what?  You fought a good fight, you took as many lumps as you gave--well, almost, maybe--and you won.  Think I'm mad at you?   I'm more mad at myself for what I found myself doing to you out there last night."

Raising herself up to a sitting position, Mimi took Shanna's hand in both of hers.  "Don't be, hon.  That's just wrestling.  I had to push you to make you fight me for real.  If I hadn't, it just would've been a put-up job.  That wouldn't work at all."

"Maybe not for you," Shanna said.  "But as of last night, I'm out of wrestling, sweetheart.  I probably looked like an idiot, passed out on that mat--"

"An idiot!" exclaimed Auntie.  "Hear you talk.  You looked like a sleeping goddess.  With very little work, I could turn you into a champion.  Think of how much money that'd generate for your animal causes."

Shanna said, "I think I'll stick to rassling dinosaurs for fun.  But here's something else, Mimi: thanks to a comment one of those jarhead announcers made during the match, the zoo's been getting donations like crazy from all over.  The board of directors  already called this morning and asked if I'd do this again next year for them.  I told them where they could take that idea...politely."

Poundcakes said, "We got some other news for ya, Mimi.  Tell her, Auntie."  The big girl looked sad, and Mimi wondered why.

Auntie said, "Vince McMahon called up after you went to bed last night and talked to me.  I still can't get him to give me girls for unenhanced matches with you, yet.  But he's really interested in you, Mimi.  He says he'll offer you twice what I can afford to pay.  It's a good offer, you know.  If I was in your slippers, I'd take it."

Mimi considered it.  "Twice what I'm getting here?"

Auntie nodded.  "Don't even ask me about trying to match it."

"But he doesn't use women very much in the WWF, anyway, except as valets.  Even Madusa Miceli just gets to wrestle that Japanese woman over and over again."

"That's the way the male outfits run, honeybunch," said Auntie.  "Wrestling's always a freakshow, but they think women are too freaky even for the freaks.  But it's good money."

"I'd have to leave you and the girls."

"You would."  Auntie, Poundcakes, and Shanna waited for her to answer.

Finally, she said, "I think what Shanna told the board about a rematch applies to Mr. McMahon and his offer."

Poundcakes hauled Mimi bodily out of bed, lifted her high, and danced about the room with her, oblivious of Mimi's squeals and Shanna's and Auntie's protests.  "I knew it!" exulted the big woman.  "I knew that Mimi wouldn't leave us!  Honey, you're the greatest!"

"Thanks, ‘Cakes," gasped Mimi.  "Now, put me down.  Or I'm likely to whoops all over your shoulder pads."  Poundcakes gently lowered her to the floor and crushed her in a big hug.  Mimi, her eyes bulging, was glad that she didn't have to face her in the ring.

"I'd better split," said Shanna.  "I've got a plane to catch.  But thanks, Mimi, it worked out really good.  And if you're ever in the Savage Land--look me up."

"You bet, Shanna," said Mimi, with a vulnerable smile.  Wherever the Savage Land was, if it had tour service, she was going to book it someday.

"So long, Cinderella."  Shanna waved, opened the door, left, closed it behind her, and was gone.

"Cinderella," said Mimi, sitting on the edge of the bed.  "Wow.  I never thought of that.  This is kinda like Cinderella, isn't it?   Only I guess she didn't have to wrestle anybody to get the prince."

"Ain't no prince around here that I can see," said Poundcakes.

"Ah, ‘Cakes, you know what I mean."

Auntie said, "For the moment, Mimi, you'll be back with ‘Cakes as a valet.  I'm sorry.  But I'm going to scour the independent promotions.  They're bound to have some girls there.   If I can find ‘em for the right prices...I want you back on the mat."

Mimi ran her hands through her hair.   "That'd be nice.  I'll look forward to it, Auntie.  But even if last night is all I'll get...y'know, it was worth it."  She paused, then went on.

"Cinderella only got to go to the ball once.  But that's what they wrote the story about, and they're still talkin' about it today.  So maybe that's all you get sometimes...just one big wonderful ball to go to.  But maybe...if you work it right...that's enough."  She looked up at the two of them.  "At least I got to go."

"We've got to be out of here by noon," said Auntie.  "After breakfast, our pumpkin is waiting outside to take us to the airport."

"But we'll make sure you get some more matches, honey," Poundcakes said.  "Even if I have to go bust into some locker room and drag ‘em out by their hair.  Count on it."

Mimi just smiled, and got ready to get dressed.

This was probably the way it always was, after the ball.

******

All characters in this story property of Marvel Comics.  No money is being made from this story and no infringement is intended.

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