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“Allow me to introduce you all to Tatiana… the Gladiatrix!"

All the girls stand in awe at the woman standing before them. Annabelle stands tall, despite her short frame, her eyes quickly darting to either side of her. She catches her friend Tracey, a very pretty young woman with her ginger hair tied in pigtails with ribbons, who smirks at the sight, her fingers twitching. She's prepared to strike with something, but with what, Annabelle cannot say.

Miss Prim walks behind the gladiatrix, drawing her sword and tapping the length upon Tatiana's shoulder. “Alright, Matadoras. Tatiana is here for one simple reason today. She is to be a demonstration for proper technique when you are facing an opponent who is stronger, larger, and more physically imposing than you are." She slides the sword off of her shoulder, but Tatiana does not budge from her haughty pose, all save for her eyes rolling at the lecture.

“They may seem like mountains of muscle and true power, but there is one thing you should keep your eye on when you're facing your opponents," she says, walking across Tatiana from the front now. The tip of her sword traces down along Tatiana's arm and then to her side, and finally, just on top of her hip. “The pride of a gladiatrix is in their untamed groin, a rejection of old standards of beauty. At least, that's what they want you to think. It is through this chiseled V that you will see the true weakness of those who fight purely for monetary gain."

As Miss Prim speaks, she takes the tip of her sword and runs it down along the gladiatrix's pelvic bone, then just above her slit, then traces up the other end. When she continues, she looks into Tatiana's eyes. “They'll tell you they dress down to show they are not afraid, but the truth is, they cover themselves in their carpet to hide their biggest weakness." She pulls the sword away and taps upon her pelvis once more.

“Keep an eye here, young Matadoras," their coach says. “The gladiatrix's greatest pride is also their greatest weakness, for if you see their groin stretch, then you can read it and find out just what their next move will be." She slips the sword away and smirks. “Isn't that right, Tatiana?"

“Like any one of your tiny girls will be able to get anywhere near my glorious bush," Tatiana says. “My swing alone would cut them down before they even tried."

“I'm sure," Miss Prim says, turning back to her students and stepping up close to the front line. “If and when you find yourself competing for your university and for your honor on the Beat the Gladiatrix show, you should not strive for a simple victory. These… fighters are nothing without their sense of pride and their goal for perfection. You must not only kill them, you must destroy them completely, and you will do this by entertaining the crowd."

She walks down the line, glancing at one student to the other. Annabelle looks forward at the gladiatrix, who looks down upon the petite blonde with a sneer of disgust.

Miss Prim continues. “Winning a standing ovation from the bloodthirsty masses is the one and only goal you should have, and utter humiliation of your opponent is the only thing that will satisfy their lust. You must not fight for survival in a death match, but show the crowd that this is nothing to you — that you are in no way challenged by their… 'skills,' and that you find the task so easy that you will be dancing around them, as the graceful Matadoras that you are.

“As if," Tatiana says. “I've cleaved snot-nosed brats in two with a single strike before. I've made the 'star pupils' of colleges just like this beg me for mercy before I cut their heads off and tossed them into the crowd. I've bathed in the blood of many posers who think that a cushy education at this sort of place is anything like the blood-soaked training a gladiatrix goes through her entire life!"

Miss Prim continues, placing her hand upon a quivering student. “Through my teaching, you will learn to ignore such jabs and prove to the world that the Matadora School is, in fact, the greatest in the land. Now…" she draws her sword and mimes a jabbing pose. “Remember, the death of a thousand cuts is much more important and much more beautiful than slicing your enemy's stomach open. Aim to paint your masterpiece upon the canvas of your opponent's skin."

She lowers her weapon and throws her fist, fast enough the air blows a girl's ponytail upward. “Use your fists, as well. These attacks will slow them down and stun them."

She runs up, past all the students, so fast that Annabelle even has trouble seeing her throw a punch and just barely stop before touching Tatiana. “Aim for the stomach," continues the blonde teacher, then lowers her hand down, “or the crotch. Both are excellent targets."

Tatiana scoffs and folds her hands over her chest, snorting down at the shorter Miss Prim. “You waste your time with this demonstration, and you waste your time with teaching these children how to fight the likes of me. Don't you realize that the moment they step into a real conflict, their lives will be cut short? How funny it is that you are paid so well just to send these pretty princesses to their gruesome deaths?"

“Don't let her talk to you like that, Miss Prim!" Tracy shouts, cupping her hands to send her voice echoing through the gymnasium. “You could strike her down with one swift stroke. I've watched every last one of your fights. You're amazing. In fact, why don't you teach that bitch a lesson!?"

“No need for such language, Tracy," Miss Prim says, sheathing her weapon. “Every member of our school invited onto that show has conquered the gladiatrix they have faced. She's merely trying to get into my head. Unfortunately, she just got into yours."