It's Knight time, folks! The Intercontinental champion, Victoria Hackenschmidt is defending her belt tonight against an unknown opponent. The giant German is entering the eighth month of her reign. There's a long way to go, but every now and then there's the odd whisper in the locker room, in the stands, in the comment sections and on Social Media. Could Victoria be the one to match, or even break Jenny Jacobs' record for the longest title reign? For that to be considered, The Knight has to beat whoever dares challenge for the title tonight.
TURNADOT- FINALE
www.youtube.com/watch?v=XoTa-b7cUw0The air fills with a full orchestra playing alongside powerful, classically trained singers. The audio of Giacomo Puccini’s three-stage opera feels perfectly appropriate with the sight of the stage illuminated with blinding white spotlights. All focused on the towering sentinel that is the Intercontinental champion.
VICTORIA HACKENSCHMIDT
Victoria drinks in the uproarious response the FAWNatics give her; most to all of them will change their attitudes once the bell rings, but they always love her when the music’s playing. Hackenschmidt takes a calming breath through her nose and sets down the ramp. The German giant stands tall and armourless for the second time in her career, except for her head. She wears her usual silver Corinthian helmet that protects the back and sides of her skull but leaves her high-boned cheeks free with a strip of metal stretched down from the center opening to cover her nose. The helm is smooth other than an artful etching that circles the top of the skull resembling a bejewelled crown. The most crucial thing on Victoria’s person is around her waist, the Intercontinental Championship belt. Under the spotlight, it shines as the brightest beacon to any potential challenger, employed by FAWN or not, to try and pry it from The Valiant One’s grasp.
Head bowed in silent prayer; her hands clutch a cross-hilted broadsword nearly four feet in length, a replica of a family heirloom that hung over the fireplace in her family estate in Hesse. One of two, the other now in possession of the World Champion, Dayna Erza, having defeated Hackenschmidt for it at March to War.
She WILL wrest her honour from Dayna’s grasp, but that’s something to think about on a different night. Shaking off negative thoughts with a mighty roar, Victoria flexes her powerful arms and hefts the replica blade up to a cheering audience, then onto her shoulder before beginning her march towards the ring, the spotlights following her every step.
"Standing at 5 feet 11 inches and weighing in at 152 pounds!! From Phoenix, Arizona, by way of Hesse, Germany!! She is The Valiant One!! The Intercontinental Champion, Victoria “The Knight” Hackenschmidt!!!”
Constant bedevilment from a toxic wrestling fanbase and upheavals in her personal life led Victoria to make some changes to ease the pressure on her soul, such as removing most of the armour from her entrance. The IC champ marches to the ring in her white halter top, revealing miles of lightly toned, pale tummy with matching boy-cut shorts that cling to her tight hindquarters. White boots and knee pads looking newly shined, and an elbow-length fingerless white glove on her right arm; all her gear has thin black lines that weave and intersect to resemble the plate armour she usually wears to the ring.
Before the bell, Victoria tries to keep her mind on the match ahead, but she still reaches her free arm out to Hi-Five FAWNatics, leaning over the guardrail. The Valiant One briefly detours to a set of steel steps where a solid-looking metal box with a small slit cut into the top sat by the ring apron. Hackenschmidt takes the sword off her shoulder and swiftly swings it in a broad circle before plunging it down into the box with one smooth motion.
As her music dies down, the entrance euphoria dies along with it. A switch flips for the Orlando audience, and the air fills with a cacophony of noise; the majority of the FAWNatics boo and jeer the Towering Teuton. The feral fans want a champ that shows a little more skin or has a colourful demeanour. Since splitting from her tag partner, Danica Dadal, the audience dislikes Hackenschmidt’s ‘boring and prudish’ personality. At least, that’s how they describe it in the hate mail sent to the arena, the league's headquarters, her home, and on every social media platform.
As she finds her corner, Victoria scans the crowd and sees some pockets of support amongst a sea of jeers. A few signs bear her name or image, many of them displaying a new moniker she has mixed feelings about, Blood Knight. She shrugs to herself, “Well, support is support. Better this than the usual vitriol or posting pictures of my rear end next to planks of wood.”
Victoria’s doing a little pre-match stretching when she’s harshly interrupted by a…. Well, despite Victoria’s distaste for the word, shrill is the only accurate way to describe it.
“Put down your dollar beer and methamphetamines! Someone important has just entered the building!”
It’s been years since she graced the hallowed FAWN arena but a good chunk of the audience still remembers the woman behind the voice, and the heinous acts she’s committed. The fans fill the air with a thunderous BOOOOO!!!!
“Oh, boo yourselves!”
A blond woman that edges on the heavy side steps through the curtains with far too much pride for any person. She’s dressed smashingly in a red Gucci suit and gold Saint Laurent pumps, in one hand she carries a microphone and in the other, a large brown burlap sack. She begins walking towards the ring, talking as she goes. “Did you miss me, you clearance sale attending poors?” She saunters down the ramp, basking in the hate mere seconds of her presence creates. She points to a non-plussed Victoria, observing from the ring “Don’t worry, big girl! Your match is coming! ”
The red-clad blonde enters the ring and turns to address the fans. “Good evening, ladies and gentlemen. For those too stupid to know, my name’s Claire Cotswold. You may have heard of my family. Ever heard of Cotswold Tower in New York? Or Cotswold Plaza in Chicago? How about the Cotswold Center in Miami? The Cotswold Resort and Casino in Bermuda? Cotswold International Golf Course? Cotswold Beach Club in Malibu? In case you’re not getting it, my family is
extremely rich, so that makes me
extremely. Basically, I’m awesome.”
Victoria has already grown tired of this spectacle. The Knight takes an exhausted breath through her nose and steps to Claire Cotswold with her hands on her hips and speaks patiently but firmly, “If you’re not going to wrestle, please step out of the ring, and-”
Claire points her chin up at the champion and yells over her like Hackenschmidt’s the one out of place, “Just gimme a minute, beanpole! I’m creating a moment!”
Victoria is silent and stonefaced, restraining herself with every fibre of her being from slapping the face of this
Die Sau across the room. She will not lose control. She will not lose her temper. She will conduct herself as a proper champion, but Cotswold is on thin ice….
Claire turns her back on the towering champion in a blatant show of disrespect and continues her lecture to the fans.
“My client,
Vlada Victrovitch and I have been crushing competition all over the world and now we've come back to the only country worth a damn, the USA” There’s a small cheer from the xenophobic members of the audience.
"My client
Vlada Victrovitchwas tossing skinny bitches around in New York when I get a call from Commissioner Bethany Christian. She says 'I got a dud of an IC champion! She's boring the fans! She's not moving merch! She's a Viagra-inhibiter!"
Hackenschmidt remains a statue of professionalism, but under the surface, she's a churning, boiling mass of irritation. The Knight slides her steely gaze over to the ref, who gives a nervous grimace and points to the receiver in his ear. Hackenschmidt nods curtly, the commissioner loves drama.
“So after the HBIC gets the price right, my client and I are on the first plane to Florida, which is bad news for you, sweetheart.” Claire Cotswold finally turns back to Victoria, “From what I hear, you come from higher stock than the bikini meat I feed to my athlete. A lot of natural talent with no natural curves, and you come from an important family, not as important as MINE, but it’s a start.”
Claire steps so close to Victoria that flecks of spittle spray from her mouth onto the champ’s chest. “But that doesn’t mean you get special treatment, You’re getting the same chance every other bimbo gets with my Vlada, which is no chance! But let's say the completely unbelievable outcome occurs where you beat her? I’ll award you $10,000 cash!”
The grating grifter holds up the brown sack, it untwists in Cotsworth's grasp revealing a green dollar sign embroidered on the burlap like out of a cartoon.
“Since you winning is a dream scenario, maybe you can double up on the miracle by using the prize money to go up a few cup sizes-WhowhoaWHOA!”
Victoria lunges at Claire like a rabid animal, hands ready to tear out her throat. Luckily years of practiced cowardice have given Claire the skills to make a hasty if ungraceful exit through the ropes onto the floor,
“Save you energy honey, you’re gonna need it! Direct from Doomstadt, Latveria…five feet, ten inches! One hundred and forty-five pounds! I’d like you to meet
VLADA VICTROVICH!”
There’s a flash of light by the entry ramp and then…
VLADA VICTROVICH
Vlada Victrovich steps out for the world to see. The much-crowed about athlete appears in a black one-piece with two interlocking gold Vs in the center, fishnet stockings, black and gold boots, and gold knee pads, the light-skinned, fair-haired woman stalks towards the ring. The Latverian monster charges towards the ring at a dead sprint. Perhaps to save her manager of nearly a decade…or perhaps because she knows Claire is the only thing keeping her from losing her visa.
Victoria swiftly retreats to a corner of the ring rather than attack Vlada as she slides under the bottom rope, thinking the boisterous manager might try something while the official is distracted by the scuffle. Vlada hopes to her feet and takes the measure of the champion, it’s rare that Vlada is outmatched in physicality, slight as that advantage may be. And the tape on Victoria says the German has the technique to back that body up, if she wants that title belt, Vlada will have to strike hard, fast, and often. The IC champ takes an equal measure of Victrovich; obviously strong, and confident in the way she moves. Experienced, and she has that loudmouth circling the ring to tip the scales, Victoria has to keep the match deep within the ropes or deal with the manager early.
The German Giant and the Latvarian Leviathan slowly circle the ring like jungle cats, each looking for a weakness in the other's powerful form. On the same wavelength, Victoria and Vlada stop sizing up the enemy and walk towards each other with hands open and ready to grapple- Victoria darts away! The champion runs away from the challenger and charges towards the ropes, when Victoria's close enough she fully leaps over the top cable and crashes onto Claire Cotswold!
youtu.be/rdr7FZDQ7S8?t=441The antagonistic heiress realizes what's about to happen a moment before it does, but can only stare in wide-eyed abject fear as Hackenschmidt falls on her like a divebombing Junkers Ju 87! Cotswold is a semi-conscious smear against the floor while Victoria rises to empathetic cheers.
VIC-TOR-IA!!!
VIC-TOR-IA!!!
VIC-TOR-IA!!!
VIC-TOR-IA!!!
From the far side of the ring, Vlada stares not in anger, but in mild shock. No one's ever thought to take out Claire
before the match. Once or twice they'd grow so infuriated with her manager's antics that her opponents would break away to shut Claire, leaving an opening for Vlada to capitalize on.
Claire's a groaning heap and blind with pain, a sensation the old money heiress is unfamiliar with! Airing her frustrations with the societal grace of a toddler, Claire flops onto her belly and starts crawling to a safer environment.
"Aaaagh! Ugh! Aaaah that sourkraut bitch! Ohhh… I'll have my daddy buy her company and sell it for scraps! I'll-"
Claire Cotswold tirade halts mud threat when her hands brush across a pair of ankles. She raises her head and sees Victoria, backlit by the houselights and glaring like an angry goddess. Claire's survival instincts kick in and she pops onto her knees with her hands clasped together like a begging street urchin.
"N-now hang a moment! We're different from the riff Raff that clog up the locker room, we should team up! We'll buy FAWN and these skinny bitches with balloons for tits beg for scrapswaitWAITWAIT!!!"
Victoria wordlessly forces Cotswold's head down and lifts the slightly rotund manager onto her shoulders with a small grunt. Cotswold has a lonely moment where she makes eye contact with Vlada and utters a fearful "Eep!” before Victoria drives her through the timekeeper’s table like an axe through lumber!
youtu.be/55cOKtTnUqo?t=53Claire’s buried amongst the rubble almost instantly. Out like a light and without a doubt, no longer a factor in this match. Victims of Claire’s and Vlada’s post-match humiliations will feel a weight lift from their shoulders and psychological scars heal when they hear of Claire’s fate tomorrow morning.
Hackenschmidt slides into the ring and stands up, cooly regarding Vlada from across the squared circle, “I hope you don't mind. I wouldn’t be able to stand her braying throughout our contest.”
Victrovich quietly stares at Hackenschmidt with a cold focus, then breaks into a warm smile and speaks in perfect German, ”I’ve wanted to do that for years. I was planning to do something similar next week when I officially get my citizenship, so this is like an early celebration. After I take the title from you my night will be perfect.”
Victoria cracks her knuckles and raises an eyebrow, “We’ll see about that,” and lunges at the Eastern European Engima. Vlada matches her step for step and clashes with her sister Destroyer, the match immediately turning into a brawl for the ages! Each gal swings for the fences off the bat and swivels each other’s heads with big left and right hooks, no defence attempted or guard lifted. Just two women trying to beat each other unconsciousness within seconds of the bell ringing!
Just as the referee’s about to risk life and limb breaking this rumble up, Vlada ducks under a right jab and staggers Vic with a Knife Edge Chop. Vlada takes her by the wrist and buggy whips the Teutonic Terror to the ropes and nails her in the face with a Big boot upon Victoria’s return.
youtu.be/xLH6xdXKYYkVictoria goes from vertical to horizontal before she can think twice; The Knight shakes her vision free of stars and begins to push off the mat.
“Oof!!”
145lbs of hardbody falls across Hackenschmidt’s middle, driving the air out of her body, Vlada scoring the next offensive point and possibly the winning cover with a Standing Splash. The Offical drops and makes a full Two Count before Victoria saves herself with a Kick Out.
Vlada bends her arms into a V and drives the point of it into the top of Hackenschmidt’s head a few times, keeping her nice and pliable before lifting her up by the arm and sending the champ into the nearest corner with an Irish Whip. Victoria turns in time
bwungs off the buckles with her back, using the painful recoil to launch herself out of the corner and knock Victrovich flat with a mighty Clothesline! The Latvarian is swift to get back to her feet but doesn’t see The Knight in question. She whirls around, realizing Victoria is behind her but not soon enough; the bigger blonde beats Vlada in the face with another Clothesline, again taking the challenger off her feet. Unused to giving so much ground to an opponent so fast, Vlada gets up but she’s unbalanced and back peddles into a far corner to regroup. The Knight isn’t soft enough to give her that time and squashes Vlada in the buckles with an Avalanche Splash.
www.youtube.com/watch?v=lMdqoG9TjuYIt’s a rare sight and a rare feeling for Vlada to be smushed into the turnbuckles. She gets a very personal examination of Victoria’s abs and chest as the air and sense are expelled from her body; Victoria backs away letting Vlada stumble out of the corner and near perforates her with a Toe Kick, doubling the challenger over. Hackenschmidt takes her in a Front Facelock and makes Vlada’s eyes bulge with the power in her biceps before driving her into the covered plywood with a snap DDT!
Victrovich springs off her face onto her knees, looking dazed and confused before flopping onto her side. Hackenschmidt shoves her belly up and lies high across her chest, pulling in both of the Latvarian’s legs for a pin.
ONE!
TW-!
Vlada kicks out! She forcibly kicks her stems free from Victoria’s grasp and rolls facedown to the mat to prevent a second pin, Victoria shifts to a North/South position on Vlada’s upper back and takes control of the challenger’s arms with a Double Underhook.
“Thank you for the opportunity to use this move,” Victoria grunts, rising to one knee and then the other with Vlada fighting her at every inch, “I enjoy displaying a forgotten but effective move.”
Vlada hisses in response, trying to focus on slipping out of the hold, but Hackenschmidt proves too determined and forces them to their feet. Vlada tries to counter by going deadweight, but that instantly proves a bad decision; the pressure on her neck and arm cranks to 11 and makes the Destroyer yelp like a lap dog. She straightens as much as she can to ease the pain, which isn’t much, the German giant keeps her stooped in the Full Nelson as they step farther away from the ropes. Victoria takes in a steady breath and hauls Victrovich off the ground, reigniting the fire coursing in her neck and shoulders.
DOUBLE UNDERHOOK LIFT
youtu.be/es_CfKtMkVw?t=2050“Krrkeezgch!!”
Vlada gurgles worryingly as she’s held in the air, her own bodyweight being used to choke her out, dislocate her arms or break her neck, whichever comes first. Victoria sets her down after a few seconds to let Vlada speak to the official after he asks for a submission, she barks something in a language neither the Knight nor the zebra spoke, but each understood the feeling of “Fuck you!” behind it.
Victoria pumps two Kneelifts into Vlada’s left breast, “This move can put you on the shelf quite easily. I keep my title, either way, so tap out quickly, or regret not doing so from a hospital bed.”
The Valiant One works her dreadful move, raising Vlada just a few feet off the ground and causing excruciating pain. She holds her up a little bit longer making the referee break out in a cold sweat at the noises Vlada is making before Victoria sets her down again, there’s a noticeable tremble in the Monster’s body as Victoria checks her resolve, “Tap! I don’t want to break your neck but I- AaaaaHHUghh!”
Whatever Victrovich pays for her wrestling boots, it's a great deal; The Latvarian Leviathan finds enough purchase on the canvas to stand firm and lift Victoria up and over with a Back Body Drop. Victoria grunts in pain as she hits the ring floor but keeps the Full Nelson intact; Vlada plants her feet and rises into a Bridge, focusing her weight on Victoria to keep her down for a surprise cover.
ONE!
TWO!!
T- Victoria rolls over, taking her shoulders off the mat and saving herself. The IC champ tries her best to keep Vlada tied up, but the challenger proves too slippery and escapes the hold. The battle-tested blondes rush to their feet; Victoria’s a touch faster and goes to take Vlada in an Elbow and Collar.
“Erkk!”
Vlada nails Hackenschmidt in the throat with a Cross Chop! The young veteran gags and grasps her throat, making her easy pickings for Vlada to pick her up by a thigh and her lower back and spike the fork of Hackenschmidt’s crotch on her knee.
INVERTED ATOMIC DROP
www.youtube.com/watch?v=LxkVlBNeQMMVictoria lets out a squawk as her legs turn rubbery and her hands abandon her throat and cradled her abused womanhood, she’s teetering backward when Vlada gets in close and flips the German to the mat with a Hip Toss. Vlada’s starting to feel her usual dominance trickle in. It soothes and sharpens the challenger’s mind, which is bad news for Hackenschmidt!
Victrovich lands a heavy stomp to Hackenschmidt’s backside, flattening the champ before she can get up. Victrovich bends down and loops her arms around Victoria’s waist, lifts her up with a Wheelbarrow hold and walks across the Squared Circle. Victoria looks worried and waves her arms about, either trying to arch up for a Stunner or attempting a Sunset Flip. We'll never find out; Vlada swings her quarry higher and slams Victoria's stomach on the top rope, the rubber-coated steel cable bisects The Knight's navel and will leave behind a red welt as a reminder later on.
Victoria's abs use the ropes like a painful trampoline for a few bounces making the nauseated champion retch. Vlada moves a hand to the back of the international star’s shorts and wedgies them halfway up her back! The hard cam broadcasts Victoria’s flushed face squealing as lycra saws into her petals and ¾’s of her ass is bared in front of a thousands-strong audience. The IC champion turns into a woman half her size and half her experience; Victoria awkwardly reaches behind her to pull her shorts out of her privates and cover up her cheeks, Vlada slaps the flailing hands aside and treats her glutes to a quick and rhythmic spankityspankspank-spankspank!
“Don’t think I’ll let that slide!” Victoria yells over her shoulder, trying and failing to sound threatening with pinpricks of tears in her eyes. “You just tossed out civility and I will answer in kind!”
Victrovich answers with an amused smile and slides her hands down to Victoria’s ankles, giving the champ’s butt, thighs and calves probing squeezes along the way. Victrovich backs up till Victoria’s a taut bridge supported by the top cable against her clavicle. The Latvarian Monster rears a foot back and
Thwacks a Soccer Kick right between the legs!
Hackenschmidt’s eyes roll up in her head as a hideous shudder rocks her body and she lets loose an earsplitting shriek “AAAAIIIEEE!!” and collapses into a twitching mess on the canvas. The official steps between them and warns Vlada, “Stay out of her trunks or I’ll DQ you, understand?”
The unconcerned Destroyer raises an eyebrow and a cupped hand to her ear, “No English.”
The referee gives an exasperated huff and stands aside when he spots Victoria showing Herculean determination in standing up. The Valiant One has to use the ropes as a ladder to get up, and she looks like a slight breeze might topple her when she does. Victoria tries to run at Vlada but can only manage a fast limp as she goes to punch her lights out.
Thwam!With nary an ounce of effort, Vlada scoops up the oncoming Victoria, spins around and PLANTS the giant German with an echoing Spinbuster!
www.youtube.com/watch?v=ER4W1i0kqPMThe FAWNatics collectively wince and groan in sympathy seeing the vilified Victoria leaving a woman-shaped crater in the ring. Vlada kneels between the champion’s splayed legs and reaches over to take two handfuls of breast meat as a cover. If it wasn’t apparent before, Vlada Victrovich is inclined to humiliate her opponent with or without Clare Cotswold’s influence.
ONE!!
TWO!!
THR- Victoria kicks out!
Vlada will have to pry the title from Hackenschmidt’s cold dead hands. The irked challenger gives the IC champion’s chest a big double palm slap as a punishment, making Victoria cringe and cross her arms over her bounty. Vlada gets up and walks over to Victoria’s head, almost nonchalantly raising her left stem and hitting the Teuton with a Leg Drop.
“Just so you know,” Victrovich says to a moaning Victoria as she rises off her to land another Leg Drop, “I’m going to strip you nude as soon as I beat you. I need to send a message as the new champion, and it’s far less shameful than what my former manager had in store for you.”
Victoria has a biting report ready, but Vlada’s leg falls across her chest when she speaks, so it comes out as “Grragh!”
Vlada leans over and works her fingers in Victoria’s short hair and brings The Knight to her feet with a series of hard tugs; Vlada reaches over Victoria’s shoulder with one hand and threads the other between her legs, she uses the two holds to juggle Victoria upside down and carry the soon to be ex-champion in a small circle. The monster from Latvaria wants to savour the moment and make sure everyone sees her moment of glory.
“Waaaugh!”
Victrovich’s cool composure cracks and she lets out a warbling shout! Victoria swings a bicep up and hits perhaps the first low blow of her entire career. Victrovich drops The Knight and doubles over, pale-faced and massaging her kitty. The reenergized Victoria taps into a bit of that berserker rage and surges to her feet; she straddles the bent-over Vlada and flips the large woman onto her shoulders. Victoria takes two bounding steps with a bellowing war cry, then shakes the ring and Vlada’s skeleton with a Running Sit-Out Powerbomb!
www.youtube.com/watch?v=kqH2595AHWEThe FAWNatics groan not in sympathy but awe of the Intercontinental champion’s power! Vlada recoils off the canvas near a Foot in the air before falling back down with a
thump. Victoria Kips up from the wreckage deciding she’d rather do more damage than risk another kick out. Victoria hauls a ragdoll-Esque Vlada to verticality and lifts the challenger off her feet with an arm between her, spins her upside down- she’s going to beat Victrovich with the challenger’s own move!
DOOMSTADT DEATH DROP
youtu.be/vUA8mH0ndTw?t=65Victoria hops into the air and drops Vlada onto her head and shoulders with their total 297lbs behind it! Vlada unspools from the Brainbuster into a seat, her eyes showing no conscious thought behind them, and tilts onto her side. Victoria shoves the puddle-like challenger flat and lies across her chest with a Backpress pin, making sure to pull in both of the Latvarian’s knees for insurance and to show the challenger’s ass to the camera. She hisses down to Vlada’s oblivious face as the referee counts, “You don’t have to go back to Latvaria but you’re not staying here.”
ONE!!
TWO!!!
THREE!!!!
DINGDINGDING!!!"Your winner…..and still Intercontinental champion, Victoria Hackenschmidt!"
Victoria throws Victrovich’s legs aside and rises wearily but awash with the warm glow victory brings. As she gets her hand raised, the FAWNatics give her the best reception she’s received since her debut, it's partially due to their revulsion of Claire Cotswold and her monster Vlada, but it moves Victoria to near tears all the same. The referee hands her the prized Intercontinental Championship belt and the burlap bag filled with $10,000, a stipulation the Valiant One completely forgot about!
“Oh my…” Victoria stares into the bag’s opening and wonders at the bundles of cash, “Seems a bit wasteful for me to have this, I am quite well off as it is.” She glances over at the still unconscious Vlada still sprawled out on the mat. Victoria purses her lips and mulls something over, and then nods reluctantly with herself. Hefting the title over her shoulder, Hacksnschmidt reaches into the bag and pulls out a stack of five-dollar bills and places it on Vlada’s fluttering belly, “Congratulations on your citizenship, please find a different manager.”
Victoria steps through the ropes onto the steel steps when she hears a few drunks in the crowd yelling to “Throw the money!” Victoria weighs this in her mind, she really doesn’t need the money, and The Knight is STARVED for positive attention. Victoria takes out another stack and rears her hand back to pitch it into the cheap seats, the air becomes electric, and the fans stand up in their seats, ready to catch some green!
Seeing the hunger in the stands, Victoria starts to second guess herself, “Ohhh… This could start a riot in the building, at least a few fights…. I’ll donate it to charity instead. That’s much safer.”
The sheepish Knight puts the money back in the bag, and all of that new love for the champ turns sour. Victoria tries to explain herself over a torrent of boos and insults, “I’m going to donate it!” But these Floridians will not be abated. She sighs and shrugs to herself, “Oh well. Easy come, easy go.”
