Before: Arena darkens: large four-sided monitor descends over the ring, all panels showing an off-site sauna. Along one side of the sauna enclosure, a two-tiered tiled bench: you can sit with feet on the floor, then you can sit one step up with your feet on the first bench. The walls and floor are also tiled: blue and white.

Britney enters in pale blue bikini, tie-side bottoms, hair in a messy ponytail. She rolls her head side to side, already shining from the heat.

In comes Jessica: slick ponytail, pale pink bikini. She looks at the benches like it's the first time she's ever been in a sauna.

"Eliza used to call Britney a 'blubbering quitter'," Jessica had said in prefight, "and it's still true. She's learned some tricks - I see her getting cute in fights now, finessing girls and smoothing 'em - but you know what? All that means she knows she can't take it straight up. When we get in that sauna, and I tuck into her? It's not going to matter that she's a little bigger than me. All that's going to matter are my fists and her body. I'll make her cry, I'll make her quit, and that's all there is to it."
 

Jessica's words have been piped into the sauna: Britney hears them, pursing her lips in disgust. She stares at Simpson: Jessi fiddling with her ponytail, shrugs, shakes her head as if to say, "So? That's what I think."

Britney's voice then. In the arena, the monitors show a tank-topped Spears addressing press some weeks back. "People don't realize how long I've been beating Jessica - we've been in competition our entire lives and she's never, ever gotten the better of me. She couldn't make into the Mouseketeers. She never would have gotten a recording deal if I hadn't re-invented pop music. She's been dominated by me for so long, that she knows the only chance she has is to monkey around with the rules. She thinks that with body-blows only, in a sauna - she'll finally have some kind of advantage over me, but you know what? I'm a Southern girl too - I can handle the heat, and as for body blows? There is no way in hell - pardon my French - that her body stops mine. No way."

When the monitors cut back to the sauna - the girls are already fighting.

Jessica's bulled her way in, backed Britney up a step or two - Simpsy with her head on Spears' chest, shoulders rotating - short, hup-hup punching to the breadbasket. Britney trying to stay low, get her shoulder on Jess to bump her off, keeping her her elbows in, hands at her chest. Simpson just working, hitting forearms as much as tummy, but working just the same - she gets Britney's back against a hot-tiled wall, squares up like she's big.

Spears baring her teeth - just trying to manage the pressure. Britney covering up, forcing Jessica to wriggle in, wrestle apart the guard - Simpsy prying open the clam to get at the tender meat inside. Not a lot of clean punching: Britney grabbing Simpson's wrists, tieing up behind her elbows; Simpsy reaching under Britney's arms, pushing Britney's face to the side, straining against the bigger woman's brawny shoulders and arms. Panting breathes audible on camera: it's thirsty, muscular stuff. After a minute of frustration - Jessica changes tack.

Simpsy takes a step back, small fists balled hard: she opens up criss-cross. Britney pouting, right hand under her chin, left arm tight across her gut: the sharp, wet PIK! PAK! PEK! of Jessica's fists dotting Britney's slick shoulders, upperchest, and breasts. Spears sliding along the wall, Jess stepping with her. Spears lips twinging, Spears turning her shoulders: Simpsy just keeping up a straight-punching torrent, elbows up high as she shoves straight into Britney's torso.

Britney can't take it: reaches for Jessica's waist, snuggles in moist with her mouth on Jessica's shoulder. Simpson's legs strain, bare feet slapping on hot tile, stomping to press Britney back against the wall.

Golden bodies struggle in the heat, Jessica wriggling to get her hands inside, palming, pushing against Britney, finally punching. Spears gritting her teeth, stooping forward, hands at her chest, elbows in tight, bracing herself against Jessica's punches.

Simpson working hard: leaning forward with her head, feet set strong, rhythmic punching, arms pumping back and forth, rattling Spears with rapid fire sock. Jess heartless, tattooing Britney's trunkline to get under the protective elbows. Simpsy brawny - occasionally easing Britney back with the left shoulder/extended left elbow - Spears eyelashes fluttering, mouth open to suck at air so thick she almost has to drink it: she's committing to a dangerous strategy early by not answering back, letting Jess spend up her money.

Pace slows. They're several minutes in - it's mostly been Jessica hammering at Britney against the wall - both girls are feeling the heat now.

Jessi with her forehead on Britney's chest or shoulder. Rapid fire lefts and rights replaced with a more methodical, beefier single shot rhythm. Jess laying in, fists balled - she'll knuckle gently at Britney's hips or stomach, nudge her with the left elbow or shoulder, then rip into her a stout left hook, bludgeoning right. Fists land flat, knuckles stamping against flesh. Brit holding her right under her chin, left across her body - sullen, sponging up punishment. Simpsy grunting as she lifts a left hand into the swell of Britney's paunch, curling the hand back to her chest, pivoting on her hips to dig it in there again. Hot breath pushes out past Britney's parted lips in woozy chuffs - she's just riding it out. Right hands short, clubbing, wet on Britney's left shoulder. Simpsy so short with her jug-mugging, she's basically going there with forearms, packing in there tight with the sound of someone roughly handling raw sirloin: slap, slap, slap.

Pace slows. Jessica's mouthbreathing, laying in and reaching under Britney's arms more. Spears eyes expressive, wincing, frowning, but determined - she starts to get her hands on Jessica again, starts to push and wrestle with her. Starts to punch with: Britney just turning her left shoulder, shrugging it, getting a hook into Jessica's tummy, following through with 100% forearm. Simpsy takes a step back: her first.

Simpsy doesn't want to give up the wall - she reaches in under Britney's arms, wraps up around the waist. Spears sits back onto tiles, but keeps weight forward: she's punching now, fitting her fists in flat over either Simpson hip. The raw, wet smacking sound: loud, insistent. Simpson sighing - her right cheek sealed against Britney's breasts, her mouth pouted open, eyes closed; Britney's just flailing away. Britney able to come forward, leaning into Simpson - Jess still hanging on around the waist, giving up her back and flanks. Britney merciless, looming tall over Simpsy, wedging in wide, swinging lefts and rights around Simpson's outstretched limbs, but also strapping Jess across the back. Britney going open-palm, hands spread into flat paddles the better to heel the tender muscle of Simpson's back: it's heinous, but the sauna is a ref-free zone.

Simpsy's dazed, throbbing. Too stupid with hurt to make a plan. Under the bashing rain of Britney's fists and palms, Simpsy slides down Spears' tanned thighs, panting on all fours as Britney steps back.

Britney: hands on hips, chest HEAVING. "One," she says, looking down. "Two...three...four..." Simpson grimacing, clutching at her back - at "seven" she's on one knee, at "nine" she's up and swaying. Britney blows a loose blonde strand off her shiny face, takes a deep breath, and wades on in.

Groggy mouth on shoulder. Girls hand-wrestling underneath while leaning in close, then slamming away - both adept at turning punches over short enough to call 'em forearms. Ribs hum with abuse. Buttocks tremble. Thighs quake. Fight wanders at random across the tiles. Jessica is pushed against the wall and bludgeoned with moist right hands as Britney braces with her left hand against Jessi's chest. Jessi pounds Britney's mounds with shrugging, forearm uppercuts inside, drawing breathy whimpers of outrage, but moving Spears backwards. Spears responds with a greasy left arm around the head, initiating cauldron: girls slam away tired right forearms to aching jugs, huddled together in a quivering bundle of steaming blonde flesh