The Trouble with Bunny By C James Thudding left hooks crumple the opponent over as her body sags against the corner post. Bunny thinks she's controlling the fight. Ira isn't entirely certain. Between rounds, he exhorts her. "Stop hi-ad-hunting. Go to the body. She's soft in the belly. Can't you see it bounce?" Bunny nods obediently. "Use your reach. Work the jab. But concentrate on her body, okay?" While Ira sprays her down with water from a plastic bottle. a tough-looking woman at ringside leans over and whispers something into a man's ear. Then she stands up and screams into Bunny's corner. "My boyfriend says I could knock you out in the first round." "Anytime girlie, anytime you think you're ready." Bunny sneers down at the couple at ringside while Ira shakes her by the shoulders. "Damnit, pay attention. Don't play to the idiots in the audience," he scolds. When Bunny opens her mouth to reply, Ira shoves the mouthpiece in. "Now, remember, set her up with the jab. But keep going to the body. Soften her up before you drop the right hand." Realizing that she can't win an argument with Ira, she waits for the beginning of round three in silence. During round three, Bunny moves laterally to her left. staying away from her opponent's right hand. They've seen her opponent on video, and her right is her best weapon, perhaps the only one in her arsenal. Bunny's opponent is a short and stocky brown-haired woman who plods predictably forward in a single direction. With her platinum blonde hair and tanned good-looks, Bunnymore closely resembles a California beach girl than she does a boxer. But her lean build and beauty belie a deceptive power. As she peppers her opponent's face with stiff jabs, a single braid of blonde hair floats and falls gracefully down her broad back. An ugly mouse rises under the opponent's right eye as Bunny continues stinging her with the left jab. When the lumbering fighter tries trapping Bunny against the ropes, Bunny deftly spins away and catches the plodder with shuddering left hooksto the body and follows with quick, straight rights to the head. They fighters move back to the center of the ring where Bunny works the jab relentlessly until the bell ends the assault. "She's on her way out. That right eye's almost closed, so hook to the body, then to the head. She won't see it coming. You can take her out this round. Don't carry her. Her right is still dangerous." The bell signals the start of the fourth. Bunny resumes the punishing jabs. Growing more desperate, the opponent begins throwing wild looping punches which Bunny easily slips and counters with left hooks to the body and double- hooks to the head. The opponent wobbles and retreats back into the corner where Bunny hooks her repeatedly to the body and head. "Let your hands go. Finish her," Ira shouts from the far corner. Thudding left hooks crumple the opponent over as her body sags against the corner post. Then, a slashing right uppercut rips through her elbows and crashes solidly on her chin. The dazed woman grabs for the middle ring rope to steady herself before a straight right hand splashes off her mouth and sends a stream of spittle raining over the ringside crowd. The referee has seen enough. Leaping between the fighters, he waves Bunny off. The fight is over. Bunny is declared the winner by TKO at 2:14 of the fourth round. While an elated Bunny races back to her conrner and embraces Ira, the referee and two male attendants help steer her unsteady opponent back to her corner. Later, in the locker room, Bunny wraps a towel around her well-defined shoulders and walks across the concrete floor to the showers. In the shower, Bunny allows the hot water to cascade down her long frame, alleviating the telltale stiffness that has already set in. As the heat of the shower drains away the muscular tension, her mind wanders to the motel room where Ira will give her the usual much-needed rubdown. She smiles when she thinks about the pleasure it brings both of them. But especially Ira. He considers it a kind of fringe benefit. Sometimes, right in the middle of the rubdown, Bunny will reward his arousing touch. She turns on him suddenly, wrestling him down on the mattress, subduing him with her powerful nakedness. He submits to her completely as she sits astride his chest, pinning him beneath her as she strips the clothing from his body. Her total dominance is assured as she draws him inside of her. His body shudders pleasurably as her vigorous sexual attack brings about his unconditional surrender. Bunny leaves the shower still thinking about her sexual domination of Ira. She enjoys the feeling of being in control.But she isn't sure of how she really feels about Ira other than that. She's had her share of submissive males along with a few females. But for some reason, it's different with Ira. Perhaps it has something to with the fact that he is actually committed to her in a very real way. By the time she makes it to the parking lot, Ira is still packing some of her training gear into the trunk of his Ford Taurus. He shuffles around the car with that funny but still pathetic little walk of his. That's why he finally stopped handling male fighters. He got tired of being teased about his handicap. Some of the fighters were extremely cruel about his gimpiness. Others just didn't want a cripple around. They thought his physical flaw might jinx their performance in the ring. It was all a lot of hooey. It certainly wasn't his fault that he was born with one leg shorter than the other. And he was in reality, one hell of a trainer and manager. After all, he'd taken an inexperienced tomboy like Bunny and honed her skills to the point where she could probably hold her own with any fighter in her weight class, male or female. Bunny sneaks up from behind and grabs Ira around the waist. Her impromptu bearhug squeezes the breath from him as she hefts his thin body off the ground. "Hey . . . save your strength for Bakersfield," he gasps. "Bakersfield?" Bunny's tone is one of disappointment as she lowers him back to the pavement. "I thought you had a fight lined up in L.A." Ira turns and beams at her happily. "That was before I talked with Romero." "You mean the same Romero who manages Gina Solice?" "The very same. Get in the car and I'll fill you in." Bunny practically hops over the car in her eagerness to hear the details. She slides into the front seat next to Ira and kisses him on the cheek. "I'm fighting Gina Solice, I just knew it," she squeals. "You got it'll Ira says flatly as Bunny kisses him again and again. "Are you sure it's really a done deal?" Bunny seems suddenly concerned as they pull away from the arena. "Absolutely. While you hit the showers, I was on the phone doing the deal with Romero. He wants us in Bakersfield next Friday for a fight with Solice." But Bunny still looks worried. Next Friday? Wow . . . that's really what I'd call short notice. I mean, she's the champion do you think I can be ready by then?" "Stop worrying. You'll be prepared. I'll make damn sure of that. You just came off one of the best fights of your career. Now you're 17 and zip. You're undefeated. You've got thirteen knockouts. Sure, Romero's looking at you as an easy fight for Solice, a tuneup for bigger fights down the road. But they've got a surprise coming Friday." "But why would they put together a championship fight with me in only a week. It usually takes months and there's all the promotional hype and everything." Ira's expression reveals a faint trace of guilt. "Okay . . . the truth is, you're a replacement fighter. They had another fight planned with Allison Rhodes. She injured herself in training so they had to find someone fast. But that doesn't mean that you aren't ready for a big step." Bunny looks Ira square in the eye. "You bet it doesn't. I'm as ready for Gina Solice as I'll ever be. And 1 know you wouldn't have made the fight if you didn't think I could take her. " "Good girl. 1 knew you'd jump on this opportunity. You know how tough it is to get a champion in the ring. This may be your best shot." Bunny smiles at him teasingly. "God, I'm sore. Are we gonna have to drive all night?" "We don't have to. We can stop in Barstow if you like." "I LIKE. And anyway, you owe the new Middleweight Champion a massage." And she scoots her body closer to his while Ira reaches down and strokes her hard, muscular thigh. SOLICE VS. GILLETTE turns out to be big box-office in Bakersfield. The smallish arena is packed on this humid night in the San Joaquin Valley. Bunny emerges from the dressing room to an excited ovation of cheers and applause. Ira leads her down the aisle while Bunny jogs behind him, her gloved fists resting easily on his shoulders. Once inside the ring, Bunny sheds her bright lavender robe with the words, THE BLADE, embroidered on the back. Then someone yell s . "HEY CUTIE, DON'T STOP WITH THE ROBE." "STICK YOUR FACE IN HERE, UGLY," Bunny shouts back. Ira grabs her by the shoulders and pushes her toward the corner. "Knock it off. Don't let these rednecks get to you," he chides. In her matching lavender halter and black trunks. Bunny feels dazzling. She proceeds to dazzle the crowd as she dances in her corner throwing mock combinations. Then, an even louder wave of pandemonium floods over the arena as Gina Solice makes her entrance. Accompanied by an entourage of four male attendants, Gina's open gold sequined robe reveals a hot pink halter and matching trunks. Her robe shimmers in the hot ringside lights as she sprints down the aisle surrounded by her cornermen, all of whom are attired in pink silks shirts. "Sheesh, what an entrance," Tra mutters. "She better fight better than she looks," sneers Bunny. Gina bounds triumphantly into the ring, arms upraised as she gestures grandly to the partisan crowd. In contrast to Bunny, Gina is a short and dark Hispanic woman with a compact, muscular frame. Even Bunny is impressed by her physique. "I'll give her this much, she's in good shape." "-So are you," says Ira proudly. "Just wear her down. Box her early. she'll fade in the late rounds. I've seen her fight before. No stamina.?' Following the formal introductions, Gina and Bunny stand opposite each other in the center of the ring. Gina's head barely rises above Bunny's bust as the fighters glower at other unflinchingly. Seconds before the bell, Ira repeats his earlier advice. "Patience is the key. You'll be champion if you box her. Don't get into a slugout. Take your time, pick your shots." "Yeah, yeah," Bunny's tired of hearing it. At the bell, Gina rushes Bunny and misses with a wild right which Bunny easily avoids. Bunny counters with a precise double jab that snaps Gina's head back. "That's it. Feed her the jab. Make her like it," yells Ira from the corner. But before Bunny can press her advantage, Gina bulls her back into the ropes and drills a couple of good shots to the body. "Get off the ropes, get outta there," Ira screams. But when Bunny tries to push Gina back, the Latin fireplug lowers her head and plants it in Bunny's chest. Then she bangs hard to Bunny's ribs and kidneys. Finally, Bunny escapes from the ropes and dances back to the center of the ring where her flicking jabs keep Gina at bay. Sharp tremors ripple through Gina's straight black hair as Bunny's solid jabs prevent her from moving inside. "Perfect," Ira exudes between rounds. "Keep boxing her. Take her to school." Bunny remains on her bicycle during the second round. And she continues scoring points while Gina cats the constant jab. But by the end of the round, the crowd drowns Bunny with a chorus of boos. "They think I'm running," Bunny worries. "Ignore them. You're piling up points. Stay on the outside and use your jab. Don't get into a brawl," Ira emphasizes. Bunny's elusive strategy pays dividends as she works the jab more aggressively in the third. Not only does the jab confuse and frustrate Solice, but midway through the third, a sneaky right hand over the top, staggers her. With soaring confidence, Bunny follows with another straight right and then a left hook to the head. Gina's head twists violently as Bunny has the champ reeling around the ring. hitting her with explosive head and body combinations. But somehow, Solice survives the round. Ira voices his concern. "Don't punch yourself out. Go back to boxing." "She's mine. I should've taken her out." "Not so fast. If the knockout comes, fine. But don't force it. I want you to keep boxing." "SHE'S MINE," Bunny says defiantly. Although Bunny maintains control in the fourth, her punches don't seem to be having as much effect. Gina takes a barrage of Bunny's best shots but keeps moving forward. Ira keeps looking anxiously over at the time-keeper. He senses that time may be running out for his fighter. By the beginning of the fifth, Bunny's troubled too. Gina stalks her around the ring, banging her body and driving her into the ropes. Bunny looks desperate as she throws caution to the wind. She looks for the knockout with every punch she throws, but Gina walks through them unfazed. Now, it's Bunny who takes the beating. Midway through the fifth, Gina is the boss. Ira hears Bunny groaning. She is pinned against the ropes as Gina presses the brutal body attack. In a panic, he screams for her to stay off the ropes. But Bunny can't move. She seems almost paralysed as Gina's punches sting her body. Time after time, Gina wrestles Bunny back against the ropes and rips her body with a succession of left and right hooks. Finally, Bunny drops her guard, and Gina tags her with a crisp right cross to the head. Bunny reels back into the ropes. Gina zeros in on Bunny's head and slams home some heavy shots as Bunny feebly attempts to flurry.. But her hands are too heavy and Gina is too strong. Bunny then grabs desperately at Gina's shoulders and tries to hang on. Gina leans into Bunny and whispers in her ear. "Remember? I told you 1 could kick your ass." Then Gina pushes an open glove into Bunny's face and forces back her head while measuring her for a final thunderous right. The punch practically knocks Bunny through the ropes. Bunny is out on her feet as the ropes propel her back within range and a left tags her temple as she collapses to the canvas. Lying facedown on the mat, Bunny hears the referee's count reach seven. She struggles to her knees, loses her equilibrium and rolls over onto her back. An uncanny warmth engulfs her body as she is swept away into a void. Suddenly, she feels a hand reaching inside of her mouth . Then many different hands grip her body. A piercing beam of light assaults her eyes. She attempts to move away from the the annoying light. A familiar and comforting voice urges her to stop resisting and relax. She relaxes as she feels familiar hands rubbing her neck and shoulders.