Victory by submission or knockout
Rain was falling outside. In the locker room, inside of the arena, Betty was on her knees, meditating, laying on the floor with her legs folded underneath her thighs, with her backside resting on her feet. It was a ritual that she learned to perform every time before she went to a fight, helping the Liberian to control her inner focus, drift away all stress, relax her muscles and, more importantly, allow her to mentally visualize her strategy on the following action.
Her adversary, from what the LAW management told her, was going to be an old-timer, dressed as a nurse, known to be a heel. She didn't know much more about her soon-to-be opponent than that, since she never sought to focus her energies on uncovering the secrets of her adversaries; by the contrary, she preferred to focus her mental efforts on herself, just like she was doing then, meditating.
Betty's strategy would be the same as always: Being adaptable as water, with her tactics being molded by combat, as it happened, just like a river's course adapts itself to a pathway, adopting the necessary form to pass by rocks and other obstacles. Therefore, when a backstage employee told her that her time to enter the ring had arrived, the newcomer didn't hesitate.
Passing by the door, she made her way to the entrance ramp, crossing it, while Carl Douglas's Kung Fu Fighting was playing through huge speakers, spread around that middle-sized arena. She was wearing one of her classic red attires, responsible for her nickname, made entirely by tight red leather, composed by a red top with two arm extensions, red pants and red boots.
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