Indeed, Page quickly proved to be nearly unbeatable. Her combination of raw strength, cunning savvy, and plenty of experience earned growing up in the hard scrabble mountains, where girls frequently settled feuds with their fists, made her a match for anyone. And while the New York sophisticates might scoff at her country drawl and lack of boarding school polish, they were in awe of both her prowess and her beauty, and Bettie quickly became one of Manhattan society's most feted luminaries.

This rankled certain people, however, who felt that the transcendence of their sport was tarnished with a "commoner" as the unofficial champion. They had never wavered in their hope that Jackie Lens would regain her preeminence, but the blonde failed in repeated efforts to topple Page until she eventually retired from catfighting in mortification.

With their standard-bearer departed from the field of battle, the small cabal looked elsewhere for a paladin. Their standards were high, of course; the woman would have to not only be exceptionally beautiful, but also hail from "good stock," with proper breeding and refinement. After an extensive search, they believed they'd found her!

Anita Ekberg was already something of a celebrity, having won the Miss Universe pageant several years before and had appeared in several films. The statuesque Swede was also revered in European circles as a catfighting champ in her own right and was anxious to establish a career for herself in Hollywood. Naturally, when an offer was made for her to come to New York to fight Bettie, she immediately grasped the possibilities. After all, the audience for such a battle would include prominent producers, directors, and agents. What better way to announce her presence than to defeat the "unbeatable" champion before their very eyes?

Her arrival in Manhattan was treated with all of the pomp and pageantry of visiting royalty. Her sponsors brought her over on the Queen Mary, and ensconced her in a lavish suite in the Plaza. The media, which knew only of her movie aspirations and not her impending battle (as only a relative chosen few were privy to the very existence of the catfighting community), accorded her coverage befitting Hollywood's biggest starlets. If their hope was Bettie would be unnerved by the spectacle accorded her rival, she betrayed no fear.

"All I know," Bettie said when asked by admirers. "Is that I beat all of the blondes over here, so now they've got to bring 'em over from Europe!"

When Anita heard of her opponent's bravado, she smiled, hoping Bettie would give her a genuine contest. As for Bettie, the brunette was hardly underestimating the Swede, whom she knew would be her most formidable challenge yet. No penthouse could hope to accommodate the overflow crowd which demanded to witness this battle of titans, so the match was scheduled for the Long Island estate of an auto magnate. The grand ballroom allowed for up to 300 spectators, while still providing ample room for the women to battle.

The night of the match arrived and both women considered themselves at the absolute peak of their powers. For attire, Bettie chose a black bra, panties, stockings and garters, which she knew complimented her dark hair and eyes...and also added an air of menace to her. Anita was her mirror opposite, her golden tresses felicitated by white satin brazier, panties, stockings and garters.

As the two women were called into the cavernous room from separate quarters and they cast eyes upon one another for the first time, both had to admit that the other looked stunning...an observation earnestly shared by all of the men in the room. There were no pre-match instructions, no genteel rules to be stated. These two beautiful women were here to fight as savagely as possible, until one of them could fight no longer.

They cautiously came close to one another, poised like jungle cats to strike. Suddenly, as if by some unspoken signal, both lunged at each other simultaneously, their hands clasping together. They each strained against the other for several moments before, with a grunt, Bettie shoved the taller blonde back. Anita stumbled several steps before dropping unceremoniously on her derriere, shocked at the sheer physical strength of her foe.

Bettie smirked, and with a wave of her fingers, invited the Swede to get back to her feet and rejoin the fight. Anita stood up and the two again locked hands. This time, rather than engaging in another test of their strength, Anita artfully rolled backwards, pulling the brunette with her as she sat down and planted her feet in Bettie's stomach. She flipped her startled rival over, Bettie crying out in surprise as she hurtled through the air...until she, too, found herself awkwardly on her butt. This time, it was the blonde's turn to smirk.

Both women having established their abilities, they began the fight in earnest. Their legs entwined as they stumbled on the plush carpet, hands tearing at flowing manes of hair; grunts and moans escaping ruby lips. Finally, they tumbled to the floor and began rolling to and fro, each desperately trying to overpower the other.

Ultimately, Bettie managed to maneuver herself so she could wrap her powerful legs around Anita’s waist. The blonde groaned as her ribs were being crushed by Bettie’s muscular thighs. Most women panicked when first caught in Bettie's deadly vice and in their fear, they submitted. But this blonde was made of sterner stuff. What's more, she knew how to break the scissors.

First, she planted her right elbow in the tender inner thigh of Bettie's left leg. Then, with her free hand, Anita grabbed Bettie by her vulnerable toes and began twisting. The dual pain eventually proved to be too much for the brunette as, with a yelp, her legs sprung open and she rolled away.

Although her abdomen felt as if she’d nearly been cut in half and her chest heaved for air, Anita wasted no time counterattacking. Taken by surprise, Bettie fell hard to the carpet beneath her foe's tackle. Before she knew what was happening, she was face-down on the carpet, her arms bent up and behind her back in a devastating double hammerlock!

Bettie screamed as she felt her arms nearly pulled from the sockets, yet she refused to submit. Relying on her strength, Bettie slowly powered her right arm out of the hold and then, with a sudden jab of a thumb to her blonde tormentor's right eye, she forced Anita to release her hold entirely.

Bettie got to her feet, but her arms hung numb at her sides. It would be several long moments before the circulation restored feeling to her battered limbs...precious time she knew she didn’t have. With a banshee's war cry, she charged her half-blinded opponent and drove a knee lift hard to the blonde's belly. Anita doubled over with a gasp as the air is driven from her body. Another knee lift to the jaw sent the blonde crashing on her back, her eyes glazed and unfocused.

Bettie stood, chest heaving, over her fallen foe, indulging in a moment's respite to recuperate and consider her next move. But the Swede, acting on instinct honed in a hundred battles, lashed out with her leg, her foot catching Bettie flush in the groin. She shrieked in torment as she collapsed to the carpet where both women lay, whimpering in pain as they marshaled their fast-fading strength.

Finally, they crawled toward one another and fell together, hands grasping and clawing at any available target, rolling back and forth across the carpet. The battle continued this way for a full ten minutes as the two gorgeous creatures were reduced to primitive savagery until, at last, Bettie managed to snare Anita from behind in a bearhug; her strong arms clamping around the blonde like steel bands.

More than a few women had been reduced to abject defeat from the power of Bettie’s arms but Anita's one slim hope of salvation came from the fact that her arms were also pinned beneath her foe's. If she could pry the bearhug loose, she would be free. Channeling all of her strength, Anita gritted her teeth and strained. Then, with a Viking's roar, she did the seemingly impossible...she broke Bettie's grip!

Without pausing even a heartbeat, Anita swung her left arm back, her elbow smashing hard into Bettie's face and knocking her back to the floor, stunned. Running on pure adrenaline, Anita leapt in the air and landed with both feet on Bettie’s stomach. Her firm abs absorbed much of the impact...but not all and she was left gasping desperately for breath.

Time was a luxury the blonde wasn’t about to grant Bettie as she snaked her long legs around her rival's throat in a choking scissors. The brunette's eyes widened as she felt the strangling vice close tighter. Bettie clawed at Anita’s legs, tearing the silk stocking to tatters but Anita's steadfastly refused to break or even ease her hold despite the pain.

Knowing she couldn’t resist much longer, Bettie desperately tried to bridge, hoping to get to her feet and use the leverage to break free from the scissors. Her powerful body arched, her muscles strained, her skin glistened with sweat, as she slowly, splendidly rose up. But, with equal determination, Anita strained to hold her down on the floor and keep her helpless. The crucial contest of wills lasted a full minute with both women knowing the fate of the match hinged on its outcome.

Then, inevitably, Bettie's body slumped and crashed back to the floor. She could simply no longer continue with so little air in her lungs. She'd pushed her tremendous body far past the limits of human endurance in what would always be remembered as a magnificent ...yet losing, effort!

Barely conscious, Bettie simply lay helpless as her exhausted rival crawled atop her chest to symbolically pin her and claim her victory. Bettie sobbed in shame at her defeat, which emboldened the blonde further. She delivered a stinging slap to her beaten foe's cheek and then, with a sinister twinkle in her icy blue eyes, Anita got off and rolled Bettie over onto her stomach. With cruel delight, Anita administered a spanking that reduced the humiliated brunette to tears. Spanking her conquered victim had long been Bettie's signature finishing move and she'd never had to endure the disgrace at the hands of a blonde.

Exhausted, Anita's body cried out for the comfort of a bed but, having won the battle, she intended to bask in the glory and happily accepted a glass of champagne as she was escorted to an overstuffed chair. Bettie was helped to her feet by several admirers and taken to her room to rest. She was beaten, true...but the look in her eyes made it clear that she wanted to avenge the loss someday.

Anita saw the fire in Bettie's eyes as she left, and it both frightened and delighted her. She knew the rematch was inevitable...this was a war, and wars aren’t decided by single battles. But for now, it was Anita’s time to bask in the radiance of her victory.