Norville set his TV up across from his recliner.  He had been running around all week setting this up, but he had no desire to actually participate.  He knew what was coming.

Rogers Channel 10 was providing coverage of the event.  Norville set the TV up in front of his recliner.  He grabbed a drink and a bag of chips.  He was set for the night.

There was a rather large crowd considering the short notice. Some of them even had signs for their favorites: Brynhildr, Geirahöd, and Göndul amoung others.  Norv wouldn't be suprised if some enterprising fellow has already made up some trading cards for them. People were wearing plastic viking helmets.  Norv doubted that anyone here knew the true nature of the Valkyries.

The lights were turned off and Wagner's "Flight of the Valkyries" was blasted over the audio system. Spotlights scanned the crowd. Flash pots were set of in the center of the arena. flares were lit in sequence leading to the fighter's entrace.  There was a flourish of trumpets and the Valkyries made their entrance.

They were all images of female strength and perfection.  They wore shorter shifts than normal, but still longer than popular art portraided them in.  There armour shone and twinkled under the light.  They walked in linear perfection.  After them, came the wolves.  They ran from the back, around the sides and out in front of the ladies.  The wolves took their places around the outside of the octagonal ring set up in the center of the area.  Climbing apparatus had been set up around and over the ring.  The valkyries took up positions all around on the rig.

The music died out.  Light created a red carpet from the entrance to the ring.

"Ladiezzz and gentlemen, I am pleazzzzed to annouce the arrival of our lovel patron:Freyja!"

Trumpets sounded.  The love theme from "Flightof the Valkyries" was played softly on the flute.  The snow leopards walked into the room and sat along the "red carpet" of light.

Freyja floated in.

Norv sat up and looked again.

Yes, she was actually floating about a foot off the floor.

The crowd went wild.  Roses were tossed into the arena.  Small girls dressed in white ran to pick them up and give them to Freyja.

A pearly white throne on a platform was rolled up and placed beside the octagon so that Freyja could have the best view.  Freyja stepped onto the platform and waved to the crowd.

They loved her.

She sat down and motioned for the event to start.

"As you know," the annoucer said, "Valkyries are the the epitome of female fighter.  Only the best are selected for Freyja Court.  Tonight, many men have volunteered to try their skill against these fierce women.

"But first, I will remind you of how you win an Ultimate Fighting bout:

"1. Submission by:

           Physical tap out.

           Verbal tap out.

"2. Technical knockout by the referee stopping the contest.

"3. Disqualification.

"4. Forfeit.

"5. No contest.

"Our first contestant is:  Julio Mar.  He is a [pys ed student] attending UNB.  He hold a black-belt in Tae kuon do. He weighs in at 236 lbs.  Give him a hand!"

Julio jogged up to the octagon and climbed in.

"Tonight, Mr Mar's opponent will be .... "

The spot light wove around shining on the various ladies hanging from the climbing bars."

"Göndul!  Also known as the She-Were-Wolf."

Göndul dropped from the overhead bars and into the ring with an echoing thud.

The referee entered the ring.  He was a small whiny man how had been picked because he could be counted on to NOT count any fouls made by the Valkyries.  He nervosely brought his whistle to his mouth and blew a very animic "tweeeet"

Göndul was off like a shot.  She brought her right arm up and clotheslined Julio. Julio was knocked on his ass and was gasping for breath.

Göndul bounced off the ropes and hit Julio as he was standing up.  The crowd roared.  Göndul bent low and tossed Julio over her shoulder and held him upside down across her back. With a powerful thrust of her legs, she lept up into the air and came down on Julio.  Julio tapped out.

The crowd cheered.  More flowers were thrown.  Göndul struck a pose as strains of Flight of the Valkyrie boomed.

"Congratulations to our winner!  Good try by Julio Mar.  His time was 42 seconds.  Our next contestant is Cody Bibeau.  He is an auto mecanic from the Canadian Tire on Smythe Street.  He doesn't have any belts but he sure can belt someone else!  He is 6 foot 6 and 280 pounds.  Let's hear it for Mr. Bibeau!"

Cody walked confidently.  He waved his arms to excite the crowd.

"BiBEAU biBEAU biBEAU!"

He got into the ring with ease.

"His opponent is Mist."

A thick bank of fog rolled accross the ring.  When it cleared, Mist was standing there.  The was small and slight and had the elegant look of a katana.

The referee has recovered from his last bout and worked up the courage to blow his whistle again.

"tweeet!"

Mist started to sway hypnoticly.  Cody was having none of that.  He clenched his fists and threw a roundhouse right at Mist's head. Or -- more exactly -- where her head was.  Cody didn't mind.  He was just feeling her out.  He tossed out a combination of quick jabs followed by and uppercut.  Mist just moved slightly every time and his punch didn't connect. Now Cody was getting frustrated. He moved in to get her in a clutch, yet again she difted away -- but this time she gave him a light kiss on the cheek.  The crowd cheered.  Mist waved to them, all the while dodging the fists of her opponent.

"Fight me!!!" Cody hollered in frustration as he threw another haymaker.

Mist steped to one side and grabbed his wrist with two fingers.  She twisted her arm in a fluid motion.  Cody's arm made a dreadful *SNAP*. Blood spattered artiasticly accross Mist's costume.  Medics rushed in and took the now screaming Cody out of the arena.

The crowd was silent.  Then a voice called out: "Way To Go Mist!"  Whistles and clapping and stomping of feet made the air in the Aitken's Center pulse and vibrate.

"An our winner -- MIST!" Mist [postured] like a gymnast at the end of a event, blood still splattered acrooss her chest. With a small jump, the was back again on the scaffolding.

"Who knew that Mr Bibeau was so fragile?  His time was one minute and thirteen seconds. An now for our next challenger. Will he be able to stand against our ladies?  That ten thousand dollars is still unclaimed.Some of you may remember him from the Atlantic Wrestling League.  Six foot eight and three hundred and fifty pound of solid muscle.  Provincial Chapion.   May I present to you Erik Kemmerer! "

The crowd was on its feet.  Signs waved "Kemmerer the Hammerer!"  A heavy rock beat hammered out over the loud speakers.  Eric's theme music, a heavy blend of electric guitar and drums, had everyone  pumping their arms.  He was a crowd favorite.

He had on actual wresling boots. Blank stretch jeans covered his well developed legs. He had a black hoawaiian shirt with painted flames up one side. Platinum blond hair billowed in chunks around him.  A leather dew rag covered his head.

He got into the ring and [excited] the crowd by stomping on the mat and causing it to jump.  Eventually, he raised his hand to calm the crown and allow the announcer to continue.

"As you can see, Mr Kemmerer is no stranger to the ring.  But can he stand up to Róta -- 'She Who Causes Turmoil.'"

Róta entered the arena by doing a steries of backflips and tumbles.  She launched herself off the ground and landed in the ring. She offered her hand to Erik so he could kiss it.  Erik knew a good photo op when he saw one and kissed her hand with an elegant and flourishing bow. He then made a quick move and grabbed her by the waist with thee other hand and plopped a full kiss right on her lips.  Róta's eyes turned to steel.

"tweeeeeet"

Róta swiveled and knocked Erik away with a backkick.  Erik charged, but she sent him flying with a horsekick right to the solar plexus.  Erik shrugged it off and returned with a [some type of flying kick] Róta met him in midair and the two fell to the ground with their legs entangled. Róta got the advantage and put Erik into a submission hold.  Erik refused to tap out.  He tries various [moves] to get out, but Róta's strength was amazing.  Eventually he resorted to his bag of dirty tricks and pinched her on her left butt cheek.

The valkyries on the scaffolding took flight and stationed themselves at the stadium entrances.

Róta looked like a dog that had been set free.  She no longer held back.  With a swift jerking motion, she twisted Erik's head off.

She let out the Valkyrie's war cry.  Around the Arena the other Valmeyjar, otherwise known as Corpse Maidens, took up the call.  Now was the time to hunt.

The remaining compeditors were hearded into the arena floor.  They would be the first course.

It took the crowd a few seconds to realize what was happening.  Erik's headless body lay in the center of the ring.  A dark red stain pooled around him.  The crowd moved as one to the exits, but they were guarded by the valkyries who now held their weapons.There was a crush of bodies and many people were pushed under foot.

Freyja leaned forward on her throne.  Now things would get exciting.  What lengths would people go to to escape?

Then a new figure appeared on the scene.  She was wearing a white blouse with a pleated front, doe skin pants,  wide leather belt, black polished boots with bronze buttons and scalloped egding (They were her favorite).  Her blond curls bounced merrily around her head as she leapt up onto the vacant scaffolding.  She expertly brandished her saber so it caught the light of one of the spotlights.

"Freyja, I challenge you to one on one combat!"