"Hurry up!" Marc said. "Shoot the current to her before she mashes him to a pulp!"
Toffee carefully surveyed the scene of primitive love run amok. The assault on the hapless manager, no longer merely imminent, was developing rapidly into a crashing reality. The love-crazed Dolly had risen to her toes and hunched forward to gain the maximum devastation from the blow.
"Hurry!" Marc said, and Toffee drew her hand down sharply over the face of the ring. The results in addition to being instantaneous were staggeringly bizarre.
The stalking murderess abandoned her batting stance with a cry and straightened up throwing her hands over her head. The bat, gaining its freedom all of a rush sailed high in the air and fell to the floor with a crash. Dolly, as suddenly as she had righted herself, fell into a tormented crouch and hugged her bottom with both arms in a fair fit of devotion to the awful thing. Her glittering eyes seemed to spin wildly in their sockets, and she clenched her teeth in a manner suggesting that she had bitten into a high voltage socket and was prepared to blow a whole bin full of fuses.
"Yeeeee-ow!" she yelled in shrill tones.
The captive manager, having devined from the tone of Dolly's voice that the skull-splitting project had run into a snag, opened his eyes and glanced around hopefully. One peek, however, and his expression underwent a change, so that he looked for all the world like a young man who would have preferred immeasurably having his skull crushed to being confronted in this awful way with a crouching, teeth-gritting female who beyond any question of a doubt was preparing to spring upon him and rend him limb from limb with her bare fangs. He shuddered visibly and looked away. His lips quivered over prayers for an easy deliverance of his immortal soul. Toffee and Marc hurried forward to reassure him.
Once the young man was released, he mopped his brow, glanced around with a sigh, and instantly spotted the fact that there remained something in the situation to be explained.
"What's the matter with her?" he asked of his erstwhile captor. "Why is she all hunkered down like that?"
"Either she's a hard loser," Toffee murmured, "or she needs more roughage. It's hard to say at a glance." She made a quick surreptitious pass at her ring, and the girl in question fell back limply on the false grass before the teepee.