You're scared to of this amazing amazon. You apologize completely.

“What’s it going to be,” she demands. "Have you had enough, or do I really get to make you suffer."

At this point you have no doubt that she can. Every little movement sends agonizing waves of pain through your wrist.

“Ok, Ok,” you concede, “I acted like a jerk. I’m sorry for treating you like a piece of meat. I'm sorry I didn't give you the proper respect.”

"That was pretty good," she said, "It's look like some one has learned a lesson about how to treat women."

When you say nothing, she follows up, "Haven't you!?," she demands while putting just a bit of pressure on your wrist. You release a yelp of pain, "Yes. I've learned a lesson. I'll never look inappropriately again," you whimper.

Your apology comes off as sincere enough, and she release her grip on you.

"Stay there a minute," she commands, and you obediently stay in place.

She returns a moment later.

"You probably think I'm a real bitch," she said, "but I'm really pretty nice to people who treat me with respect." Now let me see you wrists.

She wraps your wrists, "I'm pretty sure they're not broken, just sprained," she tells you. "Keep them bandaged and stable as much as possible, and they should feel better soon."

You look in awe at her, wondering how she knows this. "What, I'm a nurse, I can't help but take care of people who are hurt."

"Thanks," you tell her, "that feels better."

"Now don't get the wrong idea from my kindness. If you make me angry again, I guarantee I'll do much worse to you."

"Now I suggest you get out of here, so I can finish my workout in peace. Unfortunately our wrestling match wasn't enough of a challenge, so I need to work a bit harder before I go."

As you walk to the door, you muster the courage to ask her the question that's been on your mind. "Excuse me," you ask her, "but I'm curious, how did you get so good at this?"

“My ex-boyfriend was a wrestler and into MMA. He was constantly practicing on me and teaching me moves. Over time I guess I got pretty good myself. Besides that, I work hard at the gym, and I'm clearly stronger than you," she adds, unable to resist rubbing a little more salt in your wounds, "Now get out of here before I prove it you again.”

You hastily make your exit. You've taken quite a beating, but you feel lucky that it wasn't even worse.