L.A.W. - League of Anime Wrestling

As Angelina took the dress, Madeleine knit her fingers together, held them over her bellybutton, and waited. Her eyes gleamed as Angelina admired the silkiness of the dress's weave—how its complex mesh of fibers gleamed deeply black with subtle hues of red and violet...how thin the fabric felt between the fingers, how lightly it would rest on her shoulders.

“Six-point-six-point-six out of ten.”

Madeleine's hands flinched. Say that again, sweet? The room felt suddenly quite cool, as the Countess frowned, lifted her hands, and adjusted her hair into a a pigtail. Part of her wanted to step forward and snatch the gift out of Angelina's hand; the other half knew better. The other half believed in a long game. She slipped a black band around the pigtail, then secured a symmetrical style on the other side.

When Angelina announced that she'd be slipping off to privacy she'd somehow concluded she deserved, Madeleine indulged her. She managed to smile and shooed the kitten on with one hand. Off you go. "Of course. I'll be ready when you're ready."

Once Angelina was gone, Madeleine's smile flaked from her face. Six point six. Rat. She seated herself on a bench in the middle of the locker room, next to her neatly stacked belongings. The tiara came first, securing her already prim ponytail, after which she slipped on her clothes and accouterments. Her dress was long, black, and thick, ornamented with gold. Golden ribbons formed an X-like pattern at her throat, while black fur at the hem and sleeves gave the outfit a wintry look.

Spoiler

Once Madeleine was fully dressed, she picked up the one device from her pile she had not yet touched: an iPad.

While Angelina got ready, Madeleine opened her calendar & task management software. She used a long, black stylus to navigate since her fingers would smudge the otherwise pristine surface. She bit her tongue, narrowing her eyes, as she began to arrange the rest of her day and her weekend in the software's light green rows and columns. Plans, processes, and procedures clicked and snapped, and before long, much of the bitterness of Angelina's reaction had slunk to the back of her mind. Her attention focused squarely, almost meditatively on building a weekend to rise well and good above six. Point. Six.

This thing reflected. REFLECTED, under the room’s light. Her cheeks ached with a smile. She busied herself preparing, dropping her towel and using just a smidge of leave-in conditioner. Then it was the hair dryer. A plug in was in the corner by a bench. Then the comb, which took the longest time. Some make-up for her bruises coupled with a handheld mirror. A couple hisses, vocalizations of owie and mm when she hit a goosebump.

Then the dress. Stepped into, pulled up, some light material over her collar. It went down a third of her thigh. Black, with hints of violet in the light. Then it was the accessories. Arm bracelet, a thigh straight, a lovely couple arm chains ( to choke Madeleine with ) and an ear-ring that she luckily had a pierced ear for. Thank you Sweet Sixteen.

When she stood up, there was slack around her waist that felt a little off. Not too much, but it was noticeable this was made for someone with a slightly bigger waist. “Ready for me, Madsy?”

Angelina said, searching through her bag for the final touch. A silver necklace of saint peter’s cross. Her signature. She slipped that on, the shoes, then waited for a reply. Once she got it, she came out, hands behind her back which held her knapsack.

Her steps were loud from the clacking heel. Her head tilted, smug, lips pursed to one side. “Soooooooo?”

Spoiler

“Any comments for the sweet sugar-drop rat kitten?” The right answer was to say she looked beautiful and worth the stars. She couldn’t say this out-loud. But her mind was occupied by it.

Say it. Say it. Say it. Say it.

At first, Madeleine almost seemed not to hear Angelina, intent as she was on her schedule. A few flicks of her pen saved her work — she had just about finished choosing their evening activities and the specific restaurant she would be treating Angelina to — but even after she'd finished, she waited. The seconds clicked by for two, three...almost a four-count before Madeleine finally looked up.

"Hm." Standing, the Countess clasped her hands together like a pistol and held the muzzled against her lips. Her eyes surveyed Angelina, sweeping from the bare tops of the Marauder's feet up to St. Peter's Cross on her chest. She began to circle Angelina. Watching. Listening. She hummed meaningfully, then lowered her hands behind her back as she finally came to a halt in front of Miss 6.6. She stared at her partner's bare thighs.

"I almost think I shouldn't say," she sighed. "You were so disappointed by the outfit I chose, I'm not sure there's any fun in talking about how it looks on you." If Madeleine had been a fox, her ears would have been perked, directed straight at Angelina. If she could just hear the girl whine with a bit of need, it would fill her up like the most rich meal. She shrugged and looked away, counting the seconds in her head.

"But." And now drop the smile. Her eyes, sparkling, slid back to Angelina. "Even if it would be fair, I don't think I can hold it in. Angelina, you are lovely." She stepped forward, took Angelina's hand, and — before her kitten could protest — planted a kiss on her wrist. Angelina's hand was still soft with the moisture from the shower, and Madeleine blushed lightly in the humidity, never letting her eyes stray from those lovely violet eyes. "I gave you clothes, and you made a vision—a stunning, irresistible vision. You light up the room."

That's laying it on thick, now, isn't it Madeleine? But it was easy to gush over the way Angelina looked; the hard part had been holding it back. For this moment, of all the things Madeleine owned, the kitten before her was the most beautiful.

Ready or not, please praise me was the slogan of the moment.

She posed tall with her mostly bare legs pressing together. She felt the need to present herself accordingly, in a similar way the punk clothes did, but a different attitude altogether. The dating kind. This was pretty close to that, right? In the, one-weekend and no seconds kinda way. Her expression was tempered for the dress. A light smile of dignity and confidence. Eyes that blinked and shifted slowly when prompted—straight where the head points and level, with the exception for dear Madeleine. The Chandelier of the Ballroom.

"I'm not sure there's any fun in talking about how it looks on you." Angelina’s smile fizzled out.

Angelina replied… “Oh… That’s… a shame.” with a voice powering down into a faint register.
Her head dipped. She let her exhaustion slip and be perceived for sadness, chowing down on the melatonin in her system. And while she wasn’t actually sad at all, she held the chains a little tighter and wanted to curl her nose to growl.

None of that came out, of course. And before she began processing the feeling, Madeleine made up for it.

-- You are lovely.
-- You made a vision—a stunning, irresistible vision.
-- You light up the room.

Then the kiss to her hand. She watched it. Perfect, perfect. Ya got it right, this time.
It gave her a faint glow on the inside. Her face warmed into a rose blush across her cheekbones.

“Ya damn right!” Angelina took their word and ran with it confidently. Then she grabbed Madeleine suddenly and pulled her into a squeeze. The off-balance made her retreat a step to catch. Her inexperienced ankles felt queasy. “Don’t sell ya-self short, right?” She added, then leaned back, “Which means the dress is the six point six. And I’M the three-point-three-four. Eh? Togethah. We a ten.”

Angelina drooped, appropriately chastened. Her dimmed voice and the disappointment in her downwards cast head all fed something sharp in Madeleine.

The next steps, in Madeleine's mind, were easy to picture: The chastened kitten, grateful for the caress under her ears, leans in. Thank you so much, Madeleine, that means so much to me, Madeleine. Is there anything I can do for you, Madeleine? Anything at all to make up for how rotten I've been?

Instead, Angelina grabbed Madeleine, then squeezed her waist.

"Oh, kitten—" Luckily, Madeleine's body knew exactly how to respond to this surprise. One hand cupped Angelina's head, the other her shoulder. Madeleine's chin rested on Angelina's shoulder.

She allowed herself to be held that way for as long as Angelina wanted, enjoying how slender and warm her pet felt. She stroked her thumb along the red-head's back, smiling. She even laughed at the joke.

It should have been annoying, that Six point six, and yet—

"I think the pair of you make a nineteen at least."

As they pulled apart, Madeleine's grip on Angelina lingered. Her eyes met Angelina's cat-like slits. It occurred to the Countess that Angelina had not taken out her contacts for the shower—if they were contacts? Of course they were. Still, as Madeleine held her look deep into those black slits, the idea of Angelina with tiger's eyes, stalking through the green underbrush, tiny but with such fangs, sent a thrill through her back. Madeleine let her hands slide down Angelina's arms and to her hands. She gave a squeeze.

"I'm going to be such a happy woman tonight." Her smile broadened. She felt inflated, bubbling. Like her toes might lift off the floor. "When I fit you for your ears, your collar, your leash...You are going to be..." How could she put it into words, this feeling? She couldn't—and didn't try. Her smile and rosy cheeks and the way her thumbs traced shapes into Angelina's palms said everything.

—

Have you ever seen The Love Bug, sweet?

For the ride home, Madeleine and Angelina lay in the back of a white, striped Volkswagen Beetle. The buggy, with two round headlights that shone cheerfully like spectacles on a dimpled face, was classy but—perhaps not the everyman's concept of luxury. But as Madeleine explained, this particular beetle had featured in film! Alongside Disney's Herbie.

No, it was not the Herbie, of course, she would explain, always with a frown and an annoyed crease on her forehead. But it had raced against Herbie!

Not Quite Herbie

It would have been much faster to take public transit to Madeleine's home, but also much much less private. And anyway, as Madeleine rested her head against the door and felt the hum of the engine roll through her, she appreciated the break for all her aches and sores.

Soon, Tokyo's lights and noise were just a buzz outside the window. Soon, the inside of the car was just right. Warm, but not enough to make her sweat. Soon, Madeleine's mind flattened into long, silky fleece, and she breathed deeply down to her toes, and she fell asleep. She snored, mindless for the first time in many hours of the redhead a seat away.

The bug inched along through packed Tokyo traffic, as Beethoven and Liszt took turns on the car's muted radio. The chauffeur offered no comment to either girl, and soon enough the car came to the Rainbow Bridge of Odaiba—the gates to the man-made island and futuristic entertainment complex that housed the Citronelle family stake in Japanese real estate.

The Rainbow Bridge, the gates of Odaiba

When Angelina felt the return squeeze, she felt like she won a carnival game. The kind of games where you go in, don’t expect to win, but the bell rings and the lights go up, and then, you walk away with a stuffed prize. The prize was warm, small enough to wrap her arms around fully and embrace how she liked. Angelina’s head leaned against Madeleine’s own, closed her eyes briefly, then stared at the blonde hair down Madeleine's back.

"I think the pair of you make a nineteen at least."
“I’ll take it if it’s from you.”

Angelina’s head had a tilt when they separated. She had this winner’s smile, a contained bit of casual joy with eyes that blinked slowly.

So she stared back. She felt examined, so did the exact same thing back, with her smile cooling into a smug pride in doing just that. Her eyes went from their face, then down towards the chess. To their arms that held her gently, slowly drifting to her hands.

She opened her hands and kept them light. The tales of ears, collars and leashes. The mention of Madeleine’s happiness. It felt sealed and secured, like being extracted from. Angelina wanted to secure her own—and get one thing in return. But she couldn’t thumb it into words or thoughts that fit the moment.

“I’d love that. Very much.” Her hands turned over after a time.
Palms against palms. Then slid back, her fingers curling into a gentle hook against the creases of Madeleine’s own fingers. “We headin’ out?”

—

Yeah, why?

Never in her twenty some odd years did she think she’d be sitting in the back of a Beetle. Or that this girl, a rich girl, really owned or wanted to drive one. Angelina was bemused and thought this was potentially some joke. She didn’t get rich people. They liked their sedan limousines, to what she knew. Porsche GTs, Bugatti Veyrons, Koenigsberg Agera. Rolls Royce. Maybe even a Skyline.

It raced against Herbie.
Really? fuckin' AWESOME! But, another thing.
When did she ever see a stick-shift like that? A literal fucking stick out of the floor, straight out of shop glass. The steering wheel was huge and looked more like a metal string. A baby’s hula hoop with a frame. The leather seats felt vintage and new at the same time, despite being sixty years old. The floor felt stronger but thinner. The windows had a spinning crank she tried momentarily, only for the noise to make her quickly roll it back up. She looked everywhere.

What she really wanted to do now was fuck with the radio and yank all the other pullies at least once. But something told her that rules would strike her down. Either by the chauffeur, or by Madeleine. Speaking of whom… “Man, this is slow.”

Angelina’s head turned, as if to add something. Madeleine looked to have left the party a while ago.

So she took out her phone. Black. Skull on the back. She stretched her arm over the flat head-rest, to make it seem like she had one arm around Madeleine. She leaned, putting her shoulder against theirs, and using the arm support to not put too much weight on. “Saaaayyyy, Tokyo…” A whisper, then a flash.

Coming past the gates of Odaiba, the level-shot put a scene behind them out the back window. A diverse set of warm colours to the orange horizon and metropolis, with its concrete and glass tours, reflecting and beaming, but not as much as Angelina in this moment.

As the beetle stopped and started its way over the Rainbow Bridge, the greens, reds, and blues bathed the inside of the beetle. Madeleine's eyes cracked a few millimeters, allowing her to see the night. The suspension bridge lines. The outline of Tokyo across the bay, glowing gold on the horizon.

Beethoven's first piano concerto played on the car radio. The piece featured a battle between the orchestra and piano. The two sides spend ten or fifteen minutes, depending on the recording, taking stabs at one another, until they reached a crisis. The violins shriek upwards, the piano replies with slammed chords, back and forth, up the scale, until—

Harmony. They reconcile their differences and descend into the end of the first movement, swinging and playful. Madeleine let the sound sway her like a cradle. She would realize, later, that she was drooling, that Angelina was watching her drool. But for the time being, she was asleep enough to feel light and lovely.

She was taking her kitten home.

Her home was a glass palace, nestled inside the magical man-made island of Odaiba. Odaiba: Home of the 18-meter tall Unicron Gundam statue, and the huge ball of the Fuji TV Headquarters, and the replica Statue of Liberty. Icons among icons.

It was, of course, not simply her home. The building was inspired by the fin de siecle masterpiece The Grand Palais, and its domed roof was constructed almost entirely of glass.

Le Grand Palais

Like the Palais, chez Citronelle hosted a menagerie of statues and banners. Instead of angels and soldiers bedecking the building's front gates, however, Angelina and Madeleine would roll up to a building covered in bears.

Teddy bears.

Teddy bears giant rabbits and stained glass dragons with huge, anime eyes. Bears lined the roof like gargoyles along the edges of a cathedral, except instead of pale stone, they glistened pink and red and blue, with colorful lights around their bases. Sculpted glass birds with grinning teeth in their beaks perched in the trees that grew in the grassy courtyard in front of the building, and a huge cat — gleaming black with a white grin and one winking eye — sat nestled over the main doors of one of Japan's most premiere toy stores and amusement centers.

As these images — between flourishes on the piano — flit in and out of Madeleine's dreams, she realized there was something warm pressed to her cheek. When she cracked her eyes, she saw Angelina, saw her raise her phone. A selfie. It took everything for Madeleine not to crack a smile, but a sudden move like that might have ruined it.

As if she were having her portrait painted, she held perfectly still and let her kitten frame the two of them. Only when she heard the flit from the camera confirm the photograph did she dare tilt her head to one side, press her lips into Angelina's cheek, and steal a peck of her own from the thief.

Mwah!

Angelina didn’t have many experiences where the day ahead looked so full and bright, with attention beyond her wildest imagination, which WAS running wild. She didn’t know how to express it. But she fantasized. About treasures and the wonders inside this place she was going to. The kind of things she could steal if she wanted to—The Gold Craze, is what she called it. Rooms full of items, personal, valuable and precious. Likely soft, probably big, with the most precious items, she predicted, being small, cuddly and fun to touch.

Like Madeleine, who promised her a collar and much more.
She was warm to lean on. Madeleine supported any weight that Angelina might’ve put on, and that was comfort. She did think of leaning on her more, but chose against it for several reasons. Not while she can’t see it. Angelina told herself mentally. Then when she snapped that photo, she was so caught up in seeing the capture and zooming in on Madeleine’s sleeping face, that the kiss made her jump in her seat.

“BWAH!” Angelina sprang to the other side of the car and hit her shoulder, which was fine. Her eyes were wide. A blush across her cheeks. Visibly red. Her mouth added a sense of speechlessness while she carefully guarded her phone against her chest, which visibly expanded and shrank from her ribs. “Pullin' me onto ya when I was helpless and sleepin', huh? That's pretty connivin' of ya, Maaaadsy.” Angelina puckered her lips and seemed proud of her lie.

She won’t believe that, dipshit.
But. That’s the story she ran with and goddamn was she willing to make anything the truth. She wasn’t sure what would be so bad about being honest about the selfie, just that she clicked it as the absolute worst option. Like with most things. And Angelina made no attempt to correct it, but took the first opportunity to leave the car on the chauffeur's cue.

The building itself was big like one of those museums or banks. The kind you see end up on TV for huge houses, or strange ones. She forgot the name, but that’s what she pegged it to. All the sculptures and painted windows, from the top and bottom, made her think of a library and church at once, the white house and an art gallery. She couldn’t thumb one. Just that the glass arch on the roof that she only saw in the distance made her wonder if she could climb up there. Stomp around, prance. Plant the black flag and crossbones.

“What in the Willy-Wonkan Fuck.”

Angelina said out loud, standing at the start of the steps.

“It's so... Rainbow.”

And... What else? Get it into words, Miss Tarrant. One, two. Three. “This is so fuckin’ cool!…” Angelina made fists, elbows near her side but arms folded forward like she was HYPED! She hurried up those steps, starting with a hop. “Madsy! Ya come home to this everyday?!” She was getting slightly further away and almost bugging her heel while navigating high heels. Then at the door, she waited, staring up at that winking black cat fucker above the door. “Man…”

Just... Looking.

Madeleine climbed the steps and stood beside Angelina, hands folded behind her back. She glanced at Angelina, smiled, then joined her in appreciating the cat. The good luck Chesterton, guardian spirit of the Citronelle roof.

"My parents enjoyed a stroke of luck with this place." They had been shrewd. Madeleine had a feeling Angelina would be able to read the subtext. "Even for my family, land on Odaiba would have been out of reach. But then. Alas. The 90s happened. We saw the collapse of the Japanese bubble. What is today a tourist's paradise..." She stretched out her arms at all the loveliness around them. "Was tens of billions of yen worth of empty lots with no buyers. Rubble where once there had been dreams."

Despite the rainbow of lights illuminating Jouets D'Or, the door was locked, the insides dark. In the daytime, customers would have streamed in and hour like dense schools of fish. She stood beside Angelina, close enough that when a breeze sifted through Madeleine's hair, her golden locks caught and mixed with the Marauder's red hair.

"Of course, we Citronelle were happy to breathe new life into those hopes." For a tenth of what it would have cost only a year earlier. "Every year, this island sees about twenty million tourists. People from everywhere and anywhere, often as part of once-in-a-lifetime vacations. And the ones with young girls, the ones who appreciate dolls and animals and sweet little things—they come here. And it's my job to ensure this. My responsibility. My home. Is what they remember."

The lights underneath the black cat cast deep hues along the steps of the palace. Red, yellow, blue, pink. Madeleine and Angelina were bathed in the orange. The aches and exhaustion Madeleine had felt earlier had almost completely washed away in the night air. She felt light after her nap, like she could have run a mile.

(her knees would have collapsed if she'd tried)

She sighed, then leaned her head on Angelina's shoulder. Her fingers brushed the Kitten's backside, then curled around her waist. She squeezed.

"For this weekend, you'll be one of my VIPs, Angelina. Someone who gets to see...everything. Anywhere you want to go, anything you want to see or do or touch or play..." Her voice trailed. The smell of strawberry mixed with citris filled the night air, and she sighed and closed her eyes, leaning all of her weight on her partner. "Will you make the most of this very special weekend with me, sweet pea?"`

##

Madeleine led Angelina through a pair of tall oak doors, through a vestibule that held a massive chandelier crafted from glasswork animals, and into the main hall of the public-facing side of Jouets D'Ors.

A massive stuffed dragon waited for them. Ten meters tall and as long as the room itself, it was a European-style beast, with bat-like wings and nobbled knees like a spider's. It wore a grin and wide, beaming eyes, while its scaled plushie hide sparkled emerald in the dim light. Stars night sky filtered through the vast glass ceiling as part of an inky blue sky. The room was dark, but even in the murk, the shapes of different booths, rides, and electronic attractions.

The Roof

Design your new best friend, from the ground up! Watch as your name is hand-stitched into the fabric.
Take your stuffed companion on a simulated roller coaster ride! Models A3 and better will gasp and hug you when the drop hits.
Buy a comic strip, sketched before your very eyes, featuring you and up to three of your cuddle companions!

Wonders, all. But for now, it was all asleep.

All, that is, except for three creatures waiting in the dark.

The Jouets D'Or toy story in fact had two guardian spirits, and they were both waiting for Madeleine when she slipped her key into the front door and walked through the atrium.

Chesterton (black, and the fifth of his name) hopped from atop the dragon's shoulders, trotted up to Madeleine, and rubbed his black furry cheek around her ankles.

"Heeeey kitty cat~" Her words were slurred and sleepy. She felt happy and loose, but the exhaustion she didn't feel expressed itself fine in her words. "Where's your sister?"

"Hiding, I expect."

Madeleine's grip on Angelina tightened. Her eyes flew to the source of the voice. Who—

"Tends to do that when I pop my head in around these parts."

As Madeleine's eyes adjusted to the darkness, she saw her in a chair, draped in the lap of a human-sized bunny, just to the right of the dragon, smirking up at Madeleine and her kittens.

"Charrrrr! What a lovely surprise."

The uninvited guest's face flinched. Good. Welcome or no, she knew Madeleine hated when she picked the locks. Why couldn't she just call ahead?

"Shimmerlace. Madsy." Her eyes shifted from the Countess...over to the red-haired kitten. Scanning her up, then down. "Cute pet you've got there. New one for the collection, is it? Or is she more at home in the, eh, sex toy department?"

It was… A lot to absorb. But it was worth it.
She tried to wrap her head around the scale being told. 90s, market crash, a deal, tourists and attraction. It was good to know it, then repeat it to internalise. Her old school habits came in handy. How she loved to study and remember things, even if it was pointless. It would make a teacher happy and there would be a good note home. She saw a reward here: To get closer.

So she waited. One wrist grabbing the other.
She longed to get inside. Madeleine was a master storyteller. A lethal threat, she might add. Someone who can write a book and draw you in by huffing their own smoke and blowiung it out in enchanting shapes and details. Lovely. But she didn’t quite understand just what she was walking into. Her imagination when it came to wonders was slightly limited. She had grand ambitions, sure, but they materialised in front of her rather than a fantasy-land with sparkling castle spires and floating carpets.

Upon Madeleine leaning onto her, she widened her stance just a bit. They came together.

Angelina thought about the invitation. Then this whole pitch, over in her head. She looked up at the building again, then over to the left and right wings. For some reason, she just couldn’t naturally put up her smile. What did this whole speech sound like?

An advertisement pitch. I’m being sold something.

But what exactly? Well, she’s just ONE of the VIPs. So who else is seeing everything and going anywhere they want? Did they get hugs and squeezes like this? How many here are already having a special weekend? Seems easy enough to hide someone in here, and for Madeleine to slip away at points to give someone a quickie. She needed to be realistic. As one can get. But to never express it.

So she smiled. “Yes.”
Then they went through the doors.

---------------------------

Echoes of her stilettos hit the floor. A clack. She got a sense of spaciousness, even from this room alone. It felt like the start of a bank, almost. A big bank. One she came to rob—which is still something she ambiguously planned to carry out. Just hadn’t the time to think about it. But it would be soon, once she found these other VIPs.

For the time being, she could find distraction in all the dim machines and statues both in-front and around. They looked childish. But at the same time, that wasn’t off-putting. It was cute. She only thought these things existed in books, and never saw how stuffies were made before. Cute little squeeze bugs… That were also fun to roleplay with to pass the lonesome boredom. She remembered it well. But hers were usually old hand-me-downs from older siblings. Where they outgrew them, she collected and prospered.

Alas, cats.
Angelina put her heels together and looked down. There was an instinct to pull away but the arm kept her secured. Then, a voice. One that grated the ears and made her eyes droop.
Madsy.

“Ah-hah.” Angelina breathed in from the nose. Now she was looking at the exit, with just a glance, to make sure it was available. Then back to Shimmer. She wanted the skin to melt off her in a rage of sudden immolation. Slowly. And in that very chair. Then place a bowl underneath for a nice pink-puke stew.

“Madeleine.” She intentionally dropped Madsy for the time being, then took Madeleine’s hand off her waist to hold in her hands. Angelina didn’t want to think it was a setup of some kind. But this was a one in a million chance to have Shimmer show up. It made much more sense to think this is what Madeleine intended.

“Why did ya invite her?” Angelina started, then turned her back to Shimmer and stepped closer to Madeleine. The hand she held with two placed on her chest.

“Shimma… Has been nothin’ but creepy and a fake snake. She stalked me in her van, and tried to get me arrested! Before my match with you.” Then she turned her head to Shimmer and squinted. “She’s goin’ to pull somethin’, I know it…” Back to Madsy. Directly in the eye. 'Fearful.' “Ya gotta boot her.”