I was nervous confronting Altara Raven about my intent to take her X-treme title from under her nose. 

I sneak up behind her at a nightclub on the dance floor. I would have to be in and out seeing as how all these alpha males would jump me if they saw me being violent with such a beautiful creature. 

I grab Altara by the hand and twirl her around and shake my hips. My mentor from the prestigious school in Calgary taught me a few dance moves during our training sessions. 

Once I was in her blind spot, I dropped down and rolled her up for a vintage pinning combination. 

1...

What in the Wheel of Time acid trip shit was going on. Who was this guy? This wasn't amateur hour at Zero Gravity. Atara was a Carpe Noctem veteran and no one needed the ugly lights to see this Don Johnson snaking through the crowd. She was Xtreme Champ VIP and security came standard with booze barrier, dance decoy, and evens designated ugly....erm

Traditionally unattractive friend by current social standards who was completely comfortable with herself and happy to accentuate the appearance of the group. 

That was Altara. It was intentional, but even with these safety protocols in place, Atara still followed with common sense practices.

1. She brought her own drugs and sanitizing wipes. No one wants a dirty bathroom rail.

2. She brushed up on her Jocko Navy SEAL guy situational awareness training. 

3. You always traveled in packs. It wasn't the alpha white knights that should worry the perv, but fucking John Wick with titties and a eyeliner pencil.

Altara, the consummate professional she was, despite being Night at the Roxbury'd still kicked out and even Atty for good measure threw a shoulder up to kick out also. 

However, all eyes were on Madison and the bass was thumping,  high heels started jumping, they made it rain stilettos and pain and no one went home til all the liquor was gone....