Jane Russell had begun to wonder if it's proper for a Christian to beat the crap and of someone in the ring. She's decided it's all right, as long as the reasons are pure. She and Bob want to adopt another child, and Jane intends to pile up as much money as possible beforehand. Besides, if she's going to capitalize with a singing career in Vegas, Jane needs to let people there see she really can play rough. You know the guys she's talking about. Jane was known as a tough broad in her Howard Hughes days, but ever since she's done frothy comedies with the likes of her pal Marilyn, she's begun to seem, well, soft. Catfighting should change that.
Men are just as unreliable as their cocks. Jane might agree, but that's Honor Blackman's thought as she ducks through the ring ropes. Honor just wants to hurt someone. If she takes a few blows, what does it matter? An inch taller and five pounds heavier than listed, Honor doesn't give away much size to Jane. But she has to admit that for once, she's facing a woman with even bigger breasts than her own rack. Should she care? The bigger they are, the harder you get. The harder you fall. Something like that. Whatever. Let's go.
So it's two unambiguously determined women who enter the ring, one with everything to gain, one with nothing to lose. Honor enjoys it when Jane takes two fast blows but keeps coming. Wrestling on the ropes, she doesn't mind it when Russell uses a forearm to massage her face, not strictly Marquess of Queensberry. But didn't the Marquess' son wind up in the sack with poor Oscar Wilde? That's the sort of thing you'd expect from men. With women, the crotch claw that Honor applies to Jane is what you should expect. At last, it gives the buxom Brit the chance to roll Russell over her hip and toss her to the mat. But give Jane credit. Still down, Russell is able to roll and flip Honor when she tries to leap on top. Like the catfighters, the mat is plenty bouncy. Honor still feels the slam, but fine, she feels something. Even as Russell pounces in turn, Blackman is rolling to throw her off. Both women are up quickly, but Honor catches Jane on the hip with a flying kick.
The problem with being big is that when you go down a few times _ and we're only talking brawling here, guys _ it gets harder to get up. Russell needs to regain her feet and her bearings, but here's that damned blonde crowding her again, throwing blows from odd angles. Jane grabs Honor and wrestles her backward. She's finally gaining an edge but it's tough going. With her right hand, Russell releases her grip to clout Honor upside the head. Jane can see the blow knock Blackman's head sideways, but a moment later the blonde has her hands wrapped around Russell's windpipe. Russell kicks her hard, but at this range she can't bring land the blow very high, and Honor barely flinches. Desperately clawing at the Englishwoman's arms, Jane finally breaks the grip. She punches Honor, knocking her back a step. But as Jane starts to lean forward, Honor comes right back, landing a series of blows to the face.
Enraged, Jane leaps at her opponent, again driving her backward. But this time, Honor turns the American's momentum against her, rolling backward and tossing Jane head over heels. This time, it's Russell who lands heavily on her back. More than anything, this is just depressing. Jane knows she's scored some good shots, good enough to put most women in this catfight tournament down and many out. Jane Russell still has plenty of fight in her, and she's encouraged as she watches a trickle of blood slither down Honor's pink cheek. But if that cold bitch just shrugs off the blows and dishes out pain in return, what's the angle? Is it right to win while getting the crap beaten out of you and be useless for the next two weeks, or does God want you to save your resources for the battles to come? By now everyone knows the judges in this tournament don't like the Brits. Someone down the line will eliminate this Blackman broad in a decision. If not, well Jane will be ready to go the distance next time they face off.
So it is that the next time Honor Blackman throws her over, Jane Russell pretends to have had the breath knocked out of her. As Honor lands on top of her, Jane thrashes feebly while waiting for the ref to count out the pin. Acting! Tune in next time.
