Easily

This was it. There was no more running for Billy. He wanted this. He wanted to fight his own mother and he wanted her to knock him out. It had not gone as planned, but he was now closer than ever to realising his dream of being put to sleep by her. He had made his bed and now he had to lie in it

An outside observer would have no way of knowing that Billy was the boxing champion and Heather the novice. From the very start to the very end Heather dominated her son, thanks in no small part to his help. He had left himself open to her attacks and as a result gave himself entirely to her in this battle. She owned him and his fate was in her hands

Her soft hands that just a few days ago wouldn't even hurt a fly. That just a few hours ago could barely even throw a punch. That just a few minutes ago had no chance of beating anyone up, and yet because of the loaded gloves those very same hands had turned into deadly weapons. Those very same hands had beaten him at his own game.

This was it. He couldn't even keep his hands up anymore, utterly defenseless. Watching helplessly as opponent bounced enthusiastically in front of him knowing she had him on the ropes, and that one more punch was all it could take to end him. She couldn't help but taunt him about his impending defeat.

"Mommy's going to knock you out"

Punch.

"There's no escape"

Punch.

"No need to resist"

Punch.

"No ability to resist"

Punch.

His arms were wobbly, his knees weak. He could barely stand up anymore. Heather couldn't even tell whether he was still conscious. Either way he wouldn't be for very long. Heather would wipe that stupid look off his face and send him to dreamland.

"What's wrong Billy? Am I too much for you? Are you about to lose to me?" He couldn't answer. She chuckled at his unresponsiveness. "Nighty night." As soon as the words left her mouth, she cocked her right arm backwards and fired a knockout punch straight into him. Perfect connection, perfect technique. The best punch all match. And that's all it took.

He dropped backwards to the ground, defeated, laying spread eagle at her feet, not moving a single muscle. She had beaten him.

"Ohhhh, I guess I should start counting you out then. 1. 2. 3. 4. 5. 6. 7. 8. 9. 10. Mommy 1, Billy 0."