Samira, the Indian belly-dancer.

You stand in your corner of the ring, disrobed and exposed to the whole crowd. You’re beginning to get used to the loud cheers and bright lights by now, and they don’t faze you nearly as much as they did during your first match. You wave to some fans and wait for your opponent.

It’s not long before she enters the arena, heralded by the twanging chords of a sitar. Samira is a petite Indian girl wearing an ostentatious belly-dancer’s outfit, made of a bejeweled purple-and-gold bra that sparkles under the floodlights and a loose, gauzy pair of harem pants that are translucent enough for you to make out the outlines of her short, but shapely, legs. Her hair is tied into a long braid that reaches most of the way down her back, and she toys with it flirtatiously as she heads toward the ring.

She’s introduced in short order. “This flexible fighter turns her skills outside the ring into a powerful repertoire of devastating moves. Her belly-dancing skills make her agile and hard to hit, while many an opponent can attest to the pain they’ve felt after being **** into a complex yoga pose. Please welcome Maharani Samira!”

The “Maharani” enters the ring in style, bending herself over the ropes to alight on the canvas before doing a sexy dance to please the crowd, undulating her body back and forth. It’s a mesmerizing sight, and you shake yourself out of your stupor just in time to shake her hand.

The bell rings and the match is on.