MAKING THE GRADE

Gail versus Pam
Update: 26/02/1998 to misc3

As a leading expert on the anthropology of the civilizations and tribes 
of Oceania, and chairman of the Anthropology department at Cumberland 
University, Professor Jack Connor's reputation in his field was of the 
highest order. Connor's dark wood-paneled office was a showcase of 
archeological finds and cultural artifacts of ancient and primitive 
cultures.  Sitting behind his mahogany desk, he surveyed with 
satisfaction the acquisitions of his most recent trip to the South 
Pacific:  the cooking implements from Ua-Pou, the burial sacraments from 
Nuku Hiva, and the wedding robe from Taunga.  And then his gaze settled 
on his most prized acquisition of all -- the Settlement Rug from Futuna. 

The rug lay on the floor in the center of his office.  Circular, about 
twenty feet in diameter, the rug was simple in design, with concentric 
circles of green over a background of ivory, radiating out from the 
center.  Random splotches of  dark crimson also dotted the rug, 
testifying to the carpet's authenticity.  Connor's stared at the rug, as 
if in a trance for several minutes, and then, as if suddenly remembering 
he had business to attend to, he shook his head with a start.  And he 
thought about the two female students who were sitting in his outer 
office waiting to see him. 

One of the drawbacks Connors had to endure as Chairman of the department 
was to teach Anthropology 101.  Teaching a subject he loved to a 
classroom full of daydreaming freshmen that were filling the seats 
because it was a required course was demoralizing.  But because these 
weren't Anthropology majors, Connors was a lenient grader, effectively 
punching their ticket and allowing them to move on.  Despite his 
leniency, two students performed so appallingly bad on the final exam 
that he found himself with no choice but to give them a failing grade. 
Ordinarily he would have submitted their grades along with the others to 
the Registrar's office.  But the acquisition of the Settlement Rug had 
given him an idea, which at first he attempted to suppress, but which 
ultimately dominated his consciousness to the point where he thought 
"Why not".  Well, for starters, there was the slight risk of scandal if 
the story got out, but Connors had devised a contingency explanation 
that should suffice (he hoped) if things got out of hand. Of course, the 
two students might not even agree to his proposition, but that was 
unlikely.  Connors had checked their records, found that they were both 
at Cumberland on athletic scholarship, and a failing grade would result 
in termination of their scholarship funds. He buzzed his secretary, told 
her to send the two girls in, and as it was close to 5:00 PM told her 
she could go home and that he would lock up. 

Connors heard a timid knock  and then the door of his office swung open 
and the two girls walked in with shy, sheepish smiles on their faces.  
Gail, the taller of the two girls at 5'7", had shoulder length black 
hair, dark eyes, and a dark complexion that hinted at her Mediterranean 
ethnicity.  Most of her height was in her legs, which the running shorts 
she was wearing allowed Connors to appreciate. She had the long lean 
muscles of the budding track star that she promised to become.  Pam was 
shorter and somewhat stockier at 5'3", with the more defined musculature 
typical of most girls on the gymnastics team. Wearing a tank top and 
denim cutoffs, the blond hair girl presented a vision of cherubic 
loveliness that did not go unnoticed by the professor. 

	"Have a seat girls" Connors instructed, extending an open hand towards 
the two high-backed chairs facing his mahogany desk. The girls seated 
themselves and awaited what they presumed to be the bad news about their 
grades. Connors smiled at the girls, and asked them if they knew why 
they were called to his office.  Almost before he could finish speaking, 
Pam blurted out her anxiety. "Professor Connors, I know I haven't 
performed well in your class, but I have to have a passing grade.....I 
just have too.  If I flunk then I'll be kicked off the gymnastics team 
and lose my scholarship money. I'll die if that happens, I'll just die." 
Pam's voice broke and Connors thought she was about to start sobbing. 

	Trying to assume a more mature tone, Gail asked Connors if there was any 
possibility of a second chance to take the final exam or do any extra 
credit work to salvage her grade. "Girls, I empathize with your 
situation, but you brought it on yourselves by not studying hard enough.  
That's unfortunate.  Under ordinary circumstances I'm left with no 
alternative but to fail you both" Connors exclaimed. "Under ordinary 
circumstances?" Pam replied, with a hopeful inflection in her voice. 


A momentary glint sparkled in Connor's eyes.  He was about to set the 
bait."  As Chairman of the department, I have the authority to reverse 
one failing grade a semester in return for special project work on the 
part of the student that furthers advancements in the field of 
anthropology." Almost immediately both girls shot their hands up and 
exclaimed their willingness to be chosen as a volunteer.  Connors held 
up his own hand to silence the girls so that he could continue. 

	"Both of you will have the opportunity to volunteer as it were, for this 
particular piece of research requires two participants.  It may be 
possible however, that after I tell you the nature of the proposed 
experiment, you may choose not to participate." The expression on both 
girls' faces indicated that they would be willing to do any work, no 
matter how disagreeable, to protect their scholarships. Connors motioned 
the girls to swivel their chairs and directed their attention to the 
Settlement Rug. 

"Gail, Pam, what you're looking at is a piece of living anthropology. I 
acquired it in the South Sea island of Futuna.  It is known as "the 
Settlement Rug".  The rug is the centerpiece of a ritual established by 
the Futuna tribe to settle conflict over scarce resources on the island.  
Whenever two tribesmen or tribeswomen were in opposition over an object 
of desire, be it land, a mate, an animal, the elders of the tribe would 
have the rivals determine the outcome of the issue by meeting on the 
rug.  The rivals would face off on the center of the rug and attempt to 
push each other entirely off the rug with the winner obtaining the 
resource that was contested.  Because the rug is so large it was very 
difficult to force an opponent off the rug, particularly if the rivals 
were evenly matched.  Since there were no rules established or 
constraints as to what tactics might or might not be used, some of these 
contests became quite brutal, as you can see from the bloodstains on the 
carpet.  In fact, very occasionally, these contests ended up becoming a 
fight to the death, as killing an opponent seemed to appear to be the 
only way to push an evenly matched rival off the rug. 

The girls stared at Connors blankly, exhibiting the same expression they 
often wore in (what was for them) the interminably boring anthropology 
class. Gail was absent-mindedly twirling a lock of her hair.  Connors 
sighed to himself.  He hoped they would have caught on to what he was 
leading up to, but evidently he'd have to be more straightforward as to 
what his intentions for them were. 

"In the situation we are facing here, we have the perfect environmental 
variables to replicate and initiate the ritual of the Settlement Rug for 
anthropological observation and analysis.  We have the scarce resource -
- a passing grade for the semester, two rivals for that resource in 
yourselves, and the actual rug, imported from Futuna at great expense, 
to enact the contest." Gail and Pam's eyes widened as they began to 
comprehend what Connors saying. "What I am proposing" Connors continued, 
"is that you girls determine who will receive the passing grade by 
contesting it on the rug, while I observe the process for research I am 
doing on transference of primitive ritual to 20th century culture." 

Gail and Pam exchanged sidelong glances, evaluating each other for the 
first time as potential rivals. "I'm much taller than Pam" Gail thought 
to herself.  "If it came down to it, I'm sure I could force her off that 
rug. But still...."  Likewise, Pam, although somewhat disconcerted by 
the Professors' suggestion,  felt that  her muscular bulk could quickly 
overpower Gail.  Although she had nothing against Gail, she would battle 
her if it meant saving her ass. 

	Silence enveloped the room, as Connors gazed at the two girls, 
attempting to discern what they were thinking.  It was broken by a sigh 
emitting from Pam, who turned in her chair to face her fellow coed and 
stated, almost in a whisper, "I'll go for it, if Gail's willing." "I 
don't know Pam......" Gail started to reply. "Gail, its our only chance" 
Pam interrupted.  "We'll both fail if you don't agree to this."  Pam 
paused, then reached out with both hands to clasp one of Gail's hands 
and looked into Gail's eyes imploringly. "Gail, please. Fight me. We 
have to do this." 

	Connors held his breath, fascinated by the spectacle of one girl 
actually pleading with the other to face her in combat, and hoping that 
Gail would reply in the affirmative.  He was sure that this was a 
scenario that never occurred in Futuna, where the tribesmen and women 
would respond with alacrity to the opportunity to resolve matters on the 
rug. Gail turned to Connors.  "There's no other way to work things out?  
An "incomplete" grade.  Or maybe a makeup exam." Connor's shook his head 
no, but otherwise remained silent. Gail turned back to Pam.  "I don't 
like it, but I'll do it.  Let's get this over with." Pam released Gail's 
hand in relief and turned back to Connors. "Okay, so what do we do, how 
do we start?" Connors attempted to control the slight tremor in his 
voice, which indicated his growing excitement at the spectacle that was 
about to unfold before him. 

	"You will face each other in the center of the rug, with both of your 
hands on your opponent's shoulders.  Although the Futuna women fought 
barechested, you are of course under no obligation to do so here. 
Looking at each other, you repeat the phrase 'wannat kapi byri sot" 
which translated loosely means you agree to abide by the outcome of the 
rug ritual.  Then, at my signal, the contest begins and you proceed to 
attempt to push your opponent off the rug.  As I said before, there are 
no rules per se, with the nature of the contest shaped by the 
combatants.  Some Rug contests can take the form of wrestling matches, 
while others can be decidedly more brutal.  The match is in effect 
almost a living organism, which you help to create. 

	Connors rose from his chair and extended his hand towards the ivory and 
green rug in the center of the room.  The girls rose with him, slipping 
out of their sandals and walked onto the rug while (much to the delight 
of Connors) removing their shirts.  As instructed, they moved to the 
center of the rug, and glancing at Connors to see if they were following 
the correct procedure, placed their hands on each other's shoulders. 
"What were we supposed to say again?" Gail asked in puzzlement. "Wannat 
kapi byri sot" Connors replied in a flat tone of voice. Gail turned back 
to Pam and repeated the exotic sounding words. "Wannat kapi byri sot" 
Pam replied in turn in a voice hoarse with anticipation of what was to 
follow. 

	Connors hesitated before giving the signal to start.  He was relishing 
this moment in which the tension the girls were emanating seemed to fill 
the whole room. Gail was licking her lips repeatedly to fight the 
dryness in her mouth.  Pam was breathing heavily, although any exertion 
had yet to take place. Her heavy but upright breasts gently brushed 
against Gail's with each exhalation.  Their nipples hardened, either out 
of fear or battle readiness.  And Connors felt a rigidity in his groin 
that he hadn't experienced since he himself was a college freshman. The 
eroticism of anticipation was an unexpected surprise to him, and he 
wondered if the actual conflict would be able to surpass it.  It was 
time to find out. 

	"BEGIN!" Connors exclaimed. Immediately the two girls uncoiled into each 
other, pushing against each other's shoulders with grunts of  effort, 
their heads facing down towards the carpet.  There was only slight give 
and take on the part of each combatant, and after three minutes of 
increasingly desperate shoving, either girl achieved no progress. 
Suddenly, Pam lowered her head into the taller girl's stomach while 
wrapping her arms around her waist and started bulling Gail backwards.  
Using her heavily muscled legs for leverage, Pam was slowly but surely 
pushing Gail towards the edge of the rug.  Gail attempted to brace 
herself and stop Pam's forward progress, but Pam had too much momentum 
working for her.  With horror, Gail realized that in another few seconds 
she would be pushed off the rug and back into her hometown, a college 
failure.  In desperation and fear, she raised her elbow over her head 
and brought it down hard on the back of Pam's neck.  Pam dropped to the 
rug like a lead weight, moaning.  Seeing her opponent incapacitated, 
Gail knelt beside her and started pushing her like a rolling log toward 
the carpet's edge.  Although blinded by pain, Pam realized what was 
happening, and with great effort, sunk her fist deep into the pit of 
Gail's stomach. Gail gasped with pain and rolled away from Pam. 

The two girls now lay five feet away from each other groaning.  Pam was 
still disoriented by the blow to her neck, and Gail was clutching her 
stomach, gagging, with a thin stream of spittle running out of her 
mouth.  Several minutes passed as both girls ministered their wounds and 
ignored each other.  Connor's wondered whether the fight was over; 
perhaps the girls, alarmed by the way the contest was playing out would 
quit.  Connors needn't have worried. Both girls struggled to their 
knees.  Pam looked at Gail with an expression more of sadness than 
anger. "So is this the way its going to be?" In an almost apologetic 
tone, Gail replied "I guess so. Yeah.  This is the way its going to be." 


Rising to their feet the two girls strode to each other and almost 
immediately started exchanging stinging slaps to each other's faces. 
Back and forth, almost in scynopation, the sound of skin upon skin 
filled the room, accompanied by an undercurrent of weeping, as the 
fighter's faces reddened with the impact of their opponents strikes. 
Both girls' eyes watered and a dribble of blood started trailing down 
from Pam's lips.  Soon, the sound of the weeping actually drowned out 
the sound of the slaps. 

As the fury of the slapping reached a crescendo, Gail, in a pique of 
rage, leaped into Pam and circled an arm around Pam's head, capturing 
her face in the crook of her arm.  In awkward, jerky movements she began 
to tug her rival across the rug.  Her attempts to force her rival 
forward were quickly met by Pam's fist thudding into her right kidney.  
The barrage of kidney punches slowed then stopped  Gail's forward 
progress.  The intense pain of the incessant punching to her side 
momentarily paralyzed Gail, who stood motionless with her arm still 
encircling Pam's head like a vice.  With each punch Pam exerted a grunt 
which was immediately followed by a low moaning sound from Gail, as if 
they were performing a perverse duet.   Gail abruptly ended the duet, as 
she flashed one dark knee upwards while simultaneously forcing Pam's 
head down.  The collision of Gail's knee with Pam's nose was audible, 
and the copious flow of blood was almost immediate.  As if to make sure 
her lean muscled leg had done the job, she repeated the maneuver twice 
more and because any resistance from Pam had been eliminated with the 
first knee lift, the results were devastating.  Pam's nose and mouth 
were painted with blood and she dropped from Gail's arm onto the rug, 
blinded by the most devastating pain she'd ever felt in her life. 

	The fight had grown increasingly savage, just as Connors had 
hypothesized it would.  No matter how many layers of societal standards, 
rules and taboos had been established, basic anthropology dictated that 
the fight or flee mechanism would always manifest itself physically when 
man (or woman) was cornered.  It had always been Connor's belief that 
part of the frustration of modern living was the constant need to 
suppress the desire to resolve issues physically rather than rationally. 

	Gail stood over her bloody foe startled at the damage she had caused. 
Blood poured from Pam's face onto the carpet, mixing with the dried up 
stains from previous battles.  She was crying hysterically, and because 
each sob only magnified the pain, Pam's sobbing turned into a pitiful 
howl.  Gail lifted her gaze from Pam to Connors, as if beseeching him to 
stop the carnage and allow her to be declared the winner.  Connors 
forced his face to remain impassive.  It occurred to him that the 
emotions that were running through him at this moment were probably not 
dissimilar to the emperors of ancient Rome, presiding over gladiatorial 
spectacles. 

	With no dispensation or sign of mercy forthcoming from her professor, 
Gail proceeded to resume her grim task.  Grabbing her incapacitated foe 
by the arms, she proceeded to drag her torso across the carpet in an 
attempt to finish the contest.  Moving her only a couple of feet, she 
realized that this was an ineffective way of making progress. Releasing 
her grip on Pam's arms, Gail stood over her rival and pondered her 
options.  Her indecisiveness proved costly.  Through the veil of pain 
that masked her eyes, Pam saw her opponents muscular calves inches from 
her face.  Moving like a snake uncoiling towards its prey, Pam grasped 
an ankle in each hand and pulled upwards. Startled and unprepared, Gail 
lost her balance and landed hard on her back. 


	With a hideous snarl, Pam launched herself on top of her prone rival, 
and immediately began clawing and tearing at her face and neck.  Pam's 
nails dug deeply in Gail's soft flesh, and pretty soon red-rimmed jagged 
welts marred Gail's delicate features.  After recovering from the 
initial shock of being toppled onto her back, Gail retaliated with 
equally deadly intent, digging her thumbs into Pam's eyes. Pam screamed 
in alarm and threw herself off her rival, rolling to a stop out of 
harm's way. Gail touched her hand to her face, feeling the warm redness 
of the open scratch wounds with amazement.  And she started to cry, 
first softly and then with increasing volume, like a drizzle that 
rapidly turns into a cloudburst.  A few feet away, Pam, perhaps affected 
by Gail's unexpected weeping, also started sobbing.  Connors looked on 
in wonderment, totally unprepared for this emotional demonstration, and 
unsure of where things would lead from here.  He was not an insensitive 
man, and yet in his life he had never felt more stimulated, more engaged 
in the present moment than he did just then. 

Nonetheless, if either girl had turned to him at that point and begged 
him to let them stop, he would have acquiesced.  But these girls were in 
their own private world now, a world occupied only by the two of them. 
Gail finally regained her composure, looked over at Pam who was also 
pulling herself together, and said "You ready to finish it?" Pam 
swallowed hard and replied "Let's do it." 

They crawled to each other on their knees to within inches of each 
other, and as if reading each other's minds, fastened their hands on 
each other's throats and began squeezing.  Maintaining their choke holds 
on each other they fell to their sides and started rolling back and 
forth, their sweat streaked breasts and bellies sticking together, first 
one on top and then the other.  They finally rolled to a stop near the 
edge of the rug, with Pam on top.  Pam used her superior position for 
leverage digging her thumbs into Gail's windpipe while gasping for the 
air that Gail's grip on her throat was obstructing. Blood from Pam's 
face dripped on Gail's panic-stricken face, as she felt herself going 
faint.  In a last desperate act she brought her knee up hard into Pam's 
pubic area.  The crack of bone hitting bone, like the sound of a pencil 
snapping, signified a direct hit, and Pam went flying off her opponent, 
rolling in agony off the rug! 

	Pam lay writhing on the cold oak parquet floor, as Gail slowly rose 
upright, not with the exultation of victory, or even relief.  As Gail, 
walked over to Pam, Connor realized with horror that the look on Gail's 
face was that of completing a job left undone.  As Connors quickly rose 
and rushed from around his desk,  Gail straddled Pam, and started firing 
fists into her face in a repetitive motion like pistons..  Connors 
grabbed her from behind and pulled her off. "My God, Gail.  Stop, you've 
won dammit, you've won!" Almost as if waking from a dream, Gail looked 
at the professor, and then towards Pam, breathing but otherwise 
unconscious, and then down at her bare feet on the hard wooden floor. 
Connors touched her bare shoulder and she raised her blood-smeared face 
to him.  They looked at each other in silence for several seconds.  
There was really nothing to say.  Almost nothing to say but for one 
thing. "You've made the grade."