>>18178549An uncharacteristically sullen looking Curry Girl makes her way to the ring.
There are a few smatterings of polite applause and a couple of forced sounding wolf whistles, but for the most part the fans do not seem particularly interested in what Punjabi pugilist has to say.
The arena is silent and Curry Girl is devastated.
She’s been in this industry long enough to know that silence is always a precursor to the bingo hall.
She furrows her brow as she climbs through the ropes.
>Black Winter>I find it rather odd that one with your complexion would see fit to lecture ME on spice, on HEAT>You drone on and on about the fire that burns in your chest >It is nothing, NOTHING compared to the inferno I’ve been made to endure as a mother, as a provider, AS AN INDIAN WOMAN>You are but a mere ember before a blazing furnace >Talk to me again of fires after you’ve given birth to NINE little girls without the aid of an epidural >ONE OF WHICH HAD HORNS>When my girls see me in this ring, when the FANS see me in this ring they look upon me with RESPECT >And what of what of you, Black Winter?>These people, they don’t look on you with love, or reverence, or even fear >They look on you with pity >They see not Black Winter, pride of the Hidden Winter Village, they see a shadow >You’re not a wrestler, dear >You’re a pallet swap 