"Mrs. Jenkinson, do you think mother will object to my getting married?" Anne whispered to her companion. They had just returned from Bath. Lady Catherine had seen her daughter's flushed and glowing cheeks, and had decided that Bath was bad for her health. Without a moment's thought she had decided that they were to return to Rosings immediately. Little did she know that Anne's cheeks glowed for an entirely different reason.

Anne had fallen in love, and the object of her affection was none other than Captain Frederick Tilney.

This was a serious dilemma; Anne was expected to marry her cousin Fitzwilliam Darcy, and she knew her mother would be incensed if she heard about Anne's feelings. Love made Anne bold enough to ask Mrs. Jenkinson about it, but Lady Catherine, who had exceptionally good hearing, overheard even Anne's soft voice.

"Anne, I will not have you discussing marriage with Mrs. Jenkinson. I must have my share in the conversation. Has Fitzwilliam proposed to you?"

"No," Anne replied. "And he never will."

"Nonsense! I will see to it that he does."

"Anyway, I wasn't talking about him," Anne whispered defiantly.

"Nonsense! There is no marriage without Darcy!"

"But I don't love him."

"Love?" Lady Catherine snorted.

"I love Captain Tilney..."

Lady Catherine almost exploded. "Who is he? Anne, I demand that you come to your senses. Captain Tilney! You are engaged to your cousin Darcy, don't talk to me about a mere Captain! If you are really bent on marrying a military man there is always your cousin Colonel Fitzwilliam, a Colonel is much higher than a Captain! But we shall not go there, he's your second choice in case Darcy should die before you are married. We shall assume that Darcy does not die."

But Anne could not be dissuaded, and so Lady Catherine set off for Northanger Abbey, the home of the Tilneys. She was certain that the Tilneys were to blame. They were after her daughter's fortune.

She rang the bell, still furious with her daughter's betrayal. The door was opened to a crack. "Name, rank, regiment!" a voice barked out.

"Now listen here," she began indignantly, inserting her walking stick into the crack. Who is this person? Who dares to refuse Lady Catherine De Bourgh of Rosings entrance?

"Name, rank, regiment, young lady!"

That mollified Lady Catherine a bit, and she barked back, "De Bourgh, Lady Catherine, Rosings Park! I demand that you let me in!"

She heard a snort from behind the door. "No way, I have just got rid of one mercenary predator called Catherine, and now there's another one at my door. I shall defend my home from the enemy!"

Lady Catherine lost her patience with the man. She used all her strength to wrench the door open with her walking stick. She poked the military figure in his stomach. "How dare you call me a mercenary predator while your son is upsetting my daughter's wedding plans? I'll have you know that she is to marry her cousin, and not some Captain who is after her fortune!"

"How dare you speak ill of a Captain? We military men are the backbone of society!" the General yelled.

"Nonsense! My daughter shall not marry a Captain!"

"You prefer a wimp over a Captain?" the General said with contempt.

"My nephew is not a wimp, he is a Darcy! I am most seriously displeased with your attitude, General." Lady Catherine waved her walking stick about in a threatening manner.

"A Darcy, well, well," General Tilney said mockingly. "He's not in the army? The he's not a real man."

Lady Catherine turned red with indignation and anger. "So only military men are real men? Are you suggesting my husband Sir Lewis De Bourgh was not a real man either?"

The General started to laugh uncontrollably. "Sir Lewis! He was not even accepted onto the Military Academy because he was such a softie!"

Lady Catherine raised her walking stick and was about to give the laughing General a good thrashing, when a tall, well-muscled man appeared and yelled, "stop!". He was wearing a shirt with the letters 'Bottoms up at Annie's Pub' and his other garments were equally peculiar. Lady Catherine eyed him with disdain. She raised her stick again. What right did the man think he had to interfere?

"Stop! How dare you begin already? No fighting allowed outside of the Arena. There are hundreds of spectators who paid money to see this fight and they are going to be very upset if they miss it. Now, come along," the man grabbed them both by the arm and dragged them off to a fighting ring in the middle of a packed Arena. Lady Catherine saw Darcy who raised his fist and cheered, "Go Auntie Cat, use your claws!" She inspected her nails. Yes, they would make an excellent weapon, along with her walking stick.

The General had fans in the Arena too. The left side was one red sea of waving arms--complete regiments had bought tickets.

The tall, well-muscled man was yelling stuff to get the crowds in the right mood, while Lady Catherine and General Tilney prepared themselves for the match.

"OK? Take your marks. Go!" the referee lowered his checkered flag, and the fighters started dancing around the ring. The General lunged for Lady Catherine, but she agilely evaded him. She prodded him with her stick. He obviously felt he was at a disadvantage without a stick, because he yelled, "get me a stick!" and a dozen sticks were thrown into the ring, one of which hit him on the head. The General sagged into the ropes and glided on the ground, unconscious. Lady Catherine, with her arm raised in a victorious manner, placed her foot on the unconscious General's chest.

"Lady Catherine won!" the announcer announced, and the right hand side of the Arena, Mr. Darcy and Mr. Collins, cheered.

While Lady Catherine ran the victor's round with the flag of Rosings, the General was being nursed into consciousness by his daughter Eleanor. Once he grasped what had happened, he stood erect and shouted, "objection!"

"Objection, Sir!" the red legion behind him repeated as they sprang to attention.

"Overruled!" cried Darcy and Mr. Collins. Anne was too scared to watch, and Lady Catherine's other relative Colonel Fitzwilliam could not choose sides, so he chose outside.

"We start again," the tall, well-muscled man decided. "No sticks this time." He blew his whistle.

Lady Catherine tried to tackle the General, but fell herself. A loud cheer from the left side accompanied her fall. The General climbed the ropes to jump on her.

"This is not to be borne!" Lady Catherine shrieked as the General descended.

"Augh!" General Tilney groaned, as one of his opponent's corset pins pricked him. He had landed right on her corset, and Lady Catherine didn't feel a thing. She smiled smugly. "Tactic, my dear Tilney, tactic."

He glared at her and prepared for another pounding. This time he landed on the ground because she rolled away just in time. "My daughter shall never marry your son," she hissed.

"Ha!" the General retorted. "Your daughter has obviously better sense that you do, woman."

"I am not a woman! I am Lady Catherine De Bourgh." In all of her wounded pride she forgot to ward off the General's attack, and she dropped to the ground once more. The red crowds on the left rose in anticipation. This time, the General managed to keep her down for the required thirty seconds and he was declared winner. Darcy and Mr. Collins slipped out through the back door, while the red coated fans marched around the Arena and Anne De Bourgh was kissing Captain Tilney in the middle of the ring. Upon perceiving her daughter behaving in such a scandalous manner, Lady Catherine got a prompt heart-attack and died.