BEFORE: "I think of this as spring-cleaning," Beckinsale declares in prefight. "Lori is junk lying around the house: she needs to be binned-up and taken away before I re-assert my will at 120. The notion that we are 'rivals' is pure rubbish - a media creation. Lori could no more be my rival than could a common garden slug."

Loughlin bristling at Beckinsale's haughty tone, but staying composed. "Kate makes the mistake a lot of movie stars do," Lori says at podium, eyes steely. "I don't rival her at the box office - that's true - but my body rivals hers in every way. My fists have taken command of her in the past, and make no mistake: that memory haunts Kate Beckinsale. She wishes we weren't rivals, but the truth is she's threatened - she knows it, and I know it. Where there's threat, there's rivalry - end of story!"

Lori in mauve bikini with dark purple connecting bands hip and jug; small black work out mitts. Kate in black bikini top with zebra print bottoms; small black work out gloves; frisky fighting ponytail with bangs framing face.

During R1: Kate initiates with a spate of jabs to Lori's chest and face - then brunette engages blonde lustily midring. Hammer and tongs slugging, Kate working short hooks out of covered-up-crouches - catching Lori, hurting her. Loughlin's legs tested early as she's chin-rocked: lovely blonde stabilizes and starts finding hooks of her own through second minute battling, staggering Kate in turn. Both beauties slugging viciously, but maintaining professional form: hands quickly brought back to temples as girls duck and roll after getting off. Withering stuff - Lori trudging into Kate late with right uppercuts to body and combinations up top. Beckinsale staring, stunned as Loughlin drives her to ropes, works her over at bell. Lori seething, forcing hot eye contact as ref pushes 'em apart: splendid bodies quivering as both girls come away hurt.

R2: Kate vigorously at Lori: hooks-off-jabs driving Loughlin ropeside. Torrid pace as Kate works Lori over: brunette head down, arms a-pumpin', fists pounding against sturdy blonde ribs and abs. Lori stooping forward behind her mitts, grimacing: she's falling off the pace, getting body-punched into compliance. Loughlin suffering, but answering back in spots: Kate taxed by stubby little right uppercuts to chin; snappy little hooks across her jugs as she works hard to keep Lori hurt. Bell: Kate digs an insurance right hand to gut just a smidge late: ref quickly upon her, yanking her back by her elbow and reading her the riot act. Loughlin mouth breathing, looking shabby: brunette really setting a blistering pace through 2.

R3: Kate continues with the very aggressive look: gambling seems to be paying off as early hooks find Loughlin's breasts and chin, backing her up. Beckinsale so compact, so efficient - bringing her feet with her as she presses the attack, getting off robust, compact. Brace of hooks shakes Lori up, drives her ropeside: blonde wilting, dukes at temples as she stoops forward butt-in-ropes. Kate squaring away, reefing hooks in behind Lori's right elbow: good beefy digs locking up Loughlin's legs. Digging left uppercut gouges at Lori's solar plexus, drawing a breathy gasp: Loughlin shabby with hurt, no longer punching back. Becks hup-hup-hup to Lori's breasts, bumping 'em brutal...then she's back on the body, tucking in left hooks behind blonde right elbow. Lori groaning, nearly doubled over: Kate still in good form - elbows in, hands up as she dips to her work, digging in behind either elbow. That's it - ref steps in as Lori's completely unresponsive: Kate brightens, dark eyes flashing as she whirls away the TKO3 victrix.

AFter: Beckinsale delighted - no prettier vixen in boxing when she's all happy and celebratory. Lori stiff, cramped-up: she's a ragged blonde limping back to port, simply overwhelmed by determined toe-to-toe. Kate not finished - after some backslapping in her corner, she marches to Loughlin, pulling the blonde away from her people by the left elbow, then encircling blonde hips with a strong right arm. Walk of shame, Kate to Lori: Beckinsale glowing, waving imperiously with her left while guiding Loughlin corner to corner. Lori blinking back tears - her left arm light across Kate's shoulders, chafing at the close contact with a hated brunette.