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Betty shakes her head, whistling after hearing that. “Wow, do you know how great you have to be to be that good and that humble? Most other fighters out there in the arena flaunt themselves, either through colorful costumes or by flinging insults. You, however, are the real deal here!"

“Let's remember," says the analyst, “that words are only a part of the battle. What really matters is the technique, after all, these fights are kill or be killed. The true connoisseurs of this show are those who understand the true warrior spirit going on during these matches, not the display for the audience.

“Why thank you," Miss Jones says, flashing a smile towards the analyst. “That's really nice of …"

“I wasn't complimenting you or your gym coach," the analyst continued. “The Matadora University tries to make itself seem palatable by using an archaic term. You do know what a Matadora is…" the analyst says, leaning back, crossing one leg over the other. Bouncing her boot-clad leg as she glances over towards Miss Prim.

“It means 'killer,' Miss Prim replies. “And that's something we teach our students from an early age." Her lip quivers just slightly at that one. Who is this woman, and why is she so antagonistic?

“Well, anyway…" Betty says, tapping her cards on the table. “Why don't we see just how much of a killer that Miss Prim really is, eh?" She turns towards the camera and says. “So, for the three of you who haven't seen the Beat the Gladiatrix show, it's a lot like the Iron Chef, except there's a lot more nudity and the carcasses on display are your opponents' and you don't cook the meat."

That joke got more roars of laughter from the studio audience.

Betty continues. “And, if you weren't watching reruns of bad sitcoms, you most certainly saw last week's amazing season finale. 'Blondes vs. Brunettes.' We actually have footage from that main event, and we're going to play it again, with commentary from the four lovely ladies sitting here right now. So, without further ado, roll that beautiful battle footage!"

The lights in the studio dim, and a projector lights up the wall behind them all, showing the scene from last week's performance. “You know," Miss Prim says. “It's really weird to watch me, because these films are edited. They take so much time in the editing process to get things looking the best."

“Thereby masking the true realities of the combat," the analyst says. “It's a real shame, because battles are like poetry. These shows that abridge some of the 'boring' details really are doing a disservice to the warriors.

“That's why it's important that viewers try to get tickets to the events and see them in person. Though, really. Who wants to sit back so far from the action, when they can get right up there and see the determination in those gal's lives." Miss Jones adds her point of view.

The camera swirls around the gigantic coliseum, where the battles were to be had. Just like the ancient Roman days of old, the arena is packed with viewers, ringing around the sand pit battlefield. Standing on a podium right above one of the teams' entrances is the Mistress of Ceremonies, a blonde woman dressed up in a white gown, shimmering with crystals to show off her wealth and importance. She raises her hands high and turns to face the audience around her. “Ladies and Gentlemen! Girls and Boys! Welcome to the Beat the Gladiatrix Show! The World's most entertaining and exciting event! Tonight, we have the events of events — a contest starring legendary combatants, a team battle of epic proportions! A six-on-six battle of brains versus brawn, beauty versus brutishness. It is none other than the first spectacular 'Blondes versus Brunettes!"

The door beneath her opens up, and out step six women, each of them blonde, from the tall Seline, wielding a bo staff, the tough Katricia, tapping her leather gloves together, the bouncy Karyn, trying out her pointed combat shoes in the sand as her ample chest jiggles in her exuberance, the stoic Samantha, standing resolute, but twirling her twin daggers, Roberta, a woman a head taller than Miss Prim and dressing up in a flashy matador's colors, but also wielding a rapier, and Miss Prim herself, her outfit a simple white sleeveless shirt, a short white skirt, and white pumps. The blonde matadoras are all dressed in white costumes – tops, skirts and shoes – which matched their dazzling golden hair.

Miss Prim smiles and waves to the crowd, while the others are focused on the other side of the arena, where the gladiatrix brunettes will enter the stage.

Betty cuts in while the camera zooms over to the other side. “Roberta there has been a rival of yours for a while. She really climbed up the ranks, didn't she?"

Miss Prim nods. “Oh yes, I'll always remember her skill. Though, she always had a knack of being a bit too showy. There has to be a good balance. I sometimes tell my girls how to act by looking at her as the counter example."

The gates to the Gladiatrix den open up, fire gushing up from either side of the doors. Slowly, the gladiatrix brunette team lumber out, standing tall and defiant, each of them staring with their heads held high. To add to the fun and excitement of the show, and to further contrast the brunettes from the blondes, all the brunette gladiatrixes are completely naked, except for the high heel boots on their feet. Fierce looking and extremely athletic, all six brunette gladiatrixes have the slim but strong, muscular physiques of fitness models. Their hard, naked bodies are well oiled for the contest which is about to begin, and a thick but well groomed bush of pubic hair protrudes defiantly from their chiseled, V-shaped groins.