But you turn it around on her!

She, exhausted and pained, staggers over to your prone form. She flops atop you, a single arm shakily lifting your left leg for a pin. You can hear her rasping breath in your ear, clearly she's hanging on by a thread. So are you, but maybe that thread has two or three more strands than her. You just need to keep calm and act decisively.

The ref drops beside you both, slapping her hand to the canvas with a dull thud, the audience chanting in time with her slaps, "ONE!"

You take a deep breath, trying to steady your aching bones for your move. "TWO!"

NOW! Your mind screams to your body, and it complies just in time. The ref's hand, millimeters from the mat, stops as you bridge your body in escape. Kali flops off of you, unable to do a thing as you take up an identical pose to her with the ref scooting a couple inches. Again the crowd chants the count.

"ONE!

TWO!

THREE!"