the direct approach

"How's that sound to you? Pretty sweet, huh?" Tracey asked sweetly. The MAS was in her office that very afternoon, eager for some legal reaction from Tanya McVan.

Amanda Weatherwhite and Heather Potterbutt looked over the small amount of paperwork. "So then if we can beat one fighter tomorrow night, Delisha's band and their music and merchandise is banned from all major markets?"

"Totally," Tracey gushed.

"And if we lose, we're not to come within 100 yards of the grounds to any of her performances and make no further protest to her work?"

"Right on."

Heather smiled smugly. "I think we can handle a single fighter. You DO stipulate that this is, as you so crudely call it around here," she chuckled smugly. "No holds barred?"

"Nothing but a pin ends that fight. No disqualifying for weapons or dumb stuff like that. Yea."

They grinned at eachother knowingly, signed, and both shook her hand. "Miss Pick, we have a deal."

"That is SO awesome," she giggled, giving them each a courteous kiss on the cheek. "See you there!"

The mothers left the office, quiet for a moment. "...do you suppose she meant something like that?"

Amanda snorted. "The woman's clearly a braindead whore. Don't mind her."