Champions are born from within. We see no better embodiment of that than when we fade in on the beautiful Anne-Marie, already a titan of her craft, master of form, focusing and working to reach yet another rung atop the industry she holds a perch above. But lurking secretly behind a closed door, WE walk out to face her in a POV match. Determined to measure her skill, to see how crisp her talent has become, and obviously first hand knowledge is always better.
After a few arrogant taunts, and physiological digs at our current working shape, Anne Marie realizes our gloves pack more than a punch… they pack metal. And all it takes for the onslaught to begin is one punch to the face that quickly sends Anne Marie down for the count (and also sets the tone for things to come). We circle around her and wait for her to get back up, which she does… slowly. She staggers to her feet and groggily sends taunts flying at us as we send three more punches to her face, knocking her backwards and forcing her tongue to stick out of her mouth just a bit. Her eyes glazed over, Anne Marie pushes herself up off the ground but still needs help to regain her balance. She uses the wall, which… actually… proves to be a rather poor decision.
We quickly sense an opportunity and corner our opponent, firing shot after shot to her increasingly fragile jaw, bringing her close to the edge of consciousness with every blow. Her eyes flutter as our focus turns to her belly, and we hear the thud of our metal inlaid gloves pushing the air out of her lungs with every punch. Anne Marie’s tongue sticks out; thoughts of regret flash through her mind as she teeters away from the wall and moves towards us, setting us up perfectly for a few more shots to the face before she is sent back to dreamland.
A battle ripe with thunderous belly punches and belly torture, drooling, eye checks, a barage of rapid fire punches, limp body play and knockout blows, we see Anne Marie in a beautiful state, oscillating back and forth between consciousness and unconsciousness at our mercy. We leave her with a few strong belly punches, pushing any remaining air out of her lungs, and walk away victorious. Her arrogance, it would seem, was misplaced as she learned skill and technique are no match for metal inlaid boxing gloves… and how satisfying a lesson it was to teach her.
Length: 18 min