Miss Furry is at the bar staring up at the TV.

Her match graphic rolls by.

MISS FURY - vs - MR. OZ

She squints at it.

"…that’s wrong."

A girl behind the bar leans over: "You on the show?"

"Yeah."

She points at the screen. "They messed my name up."

"Miss Fury?"

"Miss Furry. Two R’s. Like a cat."

"Fury sounds cooler," she says with a shrug.

"It’s not cooler. It’s incorrect."

Another girl walks over. "Ohhh, you’re Miss Fury?"

"No. I’m Miss Furry."

They both glance at the ears and tail, then back to the screen.

"…Fury still sounds cooler."

Furry looks back at the TV.


She stares at it for a few seconds.

"It sounds important, like you run stuff."

"I don’t run stuff. I'm a student."

"You look like you could run stuff."

Furry looks down at her drink, then back to the TV.

"If it’s on the card, that’s kinda official."

Furry’s eyes flick bover to the woman.

"…official?"

"Yeah. They printed it. That’s you now."

She keeps looking at it as she downs her drink.

"Miss Fury…" she says quietly, testing it to herself.

Both girls nod. "That ish goes hard."

Furry nods back slowly.

"…okay."

She straightens up a little.

"Okay."

She points at the TV. "Yeah. That’s me now!"

They smile. "Go get him, Miss Fury."
                 "Go get him, Miss Fury."

She turns to walk away, but stops and looks back.

"It’s still Miss Furry too."

"...Uh, sure?"

She nods.

Then heads for the hallway, muttering to herself.

"Miss Fury… yeah… okay..."

"...Okay.

You’re all staring at the card. I did too. I saw it.

It says Miss Fury.

That’s not a mistake.

That’s just destiny showing up early.

Because tonight I am Miss Furry… and Miss Fury… at the same time. And that’s allowed, because it’s printed. It’s official.

Mr. Oz.

You’ve got two matches before you even get to me.

Two.

First, Sir Lionel Pennyfarthing. Former Gravy student. Which means he knows exactly how to make a night feel longer than it is. He’s going to stretch you out like laffy taffy.

Then you get a clown who enjoys other people’s bad days a little too much. A man who wakes up in the morning hoping somebody else trips on the sidewalk so he can maybe feel something.

And after all of that…

You get me.

Miss Furry.

Miss Fury.

You already know the score.

You’re walking into this one sore. Breathing heavier than you want to. Moving slower than you want to admit.

Me?

Fresh.

Stretched.

Hydrated.

Emotionally prepared and slightly overconfident.

You’re on match three.

I’m on match one.

That’s not fair for you.

That is extremely fair for me.

You think this is just another opponent. Just another girl with ears. Just another weird Gravy student they threw in your path like a speed bump you can rush at 55 and not even break an axle.

Wrong.

Because this weird Gravy student is currently Miss Fury by paperwork.

You’re named after a wizard.

I’ve seen that movie.

He was just a guy behind a curtain pushing buttons and pretending to be important.

You’re also a guy.

You also push buttons.

You are also pretending to be important.

I see through that without even trying.

You think you confuse people.

You think you make people second guess what’s happening.

I live in second guess.

I wake up there.

You can’t out confuse someone who’s already confused on purpose!

We're wrestling at a place built on... *AHEM* ...fantasy.

Well, your fantasy is that you can survive me.

You can’t.

Because I am not tired.

I am not sore.

I am not thinking about the two matches you had before this.

I’m thinking about this one.

Only this one.

The one where the card says Miss Fury and you have to deal with the consequences of a typo.

You're stepping into this thinking experience is gonna carry the day.

HA!

I'm walking in trained by a guy who didn’t give a damn whether anything actually made logical sense.

He drilled one thing into me that actually stuck:

If you believe something with every fiber of your being… and you keep swinging with everything you’ve got… eventually the whole damn world just gets exhausted trying to argue with you.

You’re going to be laying on that mat after match three staring at the lights wondering how this happened.

And it’s going to be because someone spelled my name wrong and I decided to take that personally.

You are not prepared for someone who believes something this hard.

I believe I am Miss Fury tonight so much that it’s basically true already.

You’re tired.

I’m delusional.

That is a bad combination for you.

You don’t get the first version of me.

You get the version that practiced this speech twenty times, messed it up twenty times, and still walked out here believing every word anyway.

You don’t get the legend.

You get the student who thinks she’s the legend because a piece of paper told her so.

And that’s worse.

Because paperword matters!

Cats conserve energy, ya know?

I conserved all of mine for this!

Yours will be spent before you even get to me.

You are not losing to Miss Furry.

You are losing to the idea of Miss Fury.

And I am very comfortable with ideas.

Most of mine don’t make sense.

This one does.

You are match three.

I am match one.

You are tired.

I am motivated by office mistakes.

You think this is just another fight.

I think this is destiny because it’s printed in bold font.

We are not walking into this the same way.

You’re hoping to make it through.

I’m walking in under the pressure to be what the screen already says.

So, when you’re on the mat looking up at the lights, I want you to remember something:

This didn’t happen because you were unlucky.

This didn’t happen because you were outskilled.

This happened because someone spelled my name wrong…

…and I decided to become that version of myself immediately.

I am Miss Furry.

I am Miss Fury.

You get both.

Good luck with that."