If Philip Gargantos Armstrong were any more proud of his first daughter, he might literally burst his buttons. Little Olivia was only six years old, yet she was already proving to be a fine addition to the illustrious Armstrong family line. Just thinking about her beauty, her grace, and her mean left hook brought tears to his eyes!

Every afternoon his driver pulled up next to the playground at the Amestris Academy of Etiquette and Leadership (founded by his great grandfather, Phineas Q. Armstrong), the elite private school where all of the Armstrong children were sent, generation after generation. There he could watch Olivia interacting with the other children before school let out. Naturally, his precious little darling always outshone them all by a huge amount…!

Today was no exception. While all of the other little girls were running around playing silly games, Olivia found a stick and started practicing fencing drills. Some of the boys became interested and began copying her movements. She immediately got them into line and started giving orders. Her father could hear her sharp commands from a distance: "Advance! Retreat! Advance! LUNGE! Recover. Marcus, stay in line! Advance!" The head of the Armstrong family felt his heart swelling three times its normal size!

He was about to reach for his oversized monogrammed handkerchief to dab at his watering eyes, when something happened. Suddenly, all of the boys gathered together and rushed at Olivia! Immediately, he jumped out of the car and sprinted towards the scene, tearing off his shirt as he ran. "Noooooooooooooo! Not my little Livia…!"

By the time he tore open the gates and arrived at the playground, however, the scene had changed. There stood Olivia Milla Armstrong, still clutching her stick, maintaining perfect poise and dignity, without a single hair out of place. Two schoolboys lay at her feet, grabbing their genitals and groaning in agony. To her left was a boy holding his bloody nose; to her right one who had apparently just missed having his eye poked out. Another lay on the ground moaning, "But we just wanted a kiss…"

"LIVIA!" Philip Armstrong snatched up his beloved daughter in his naked arms, tears streaming down his face.

Olivia squirmed out of her father's grasp immediately. "Father! Put me down. And stop crying. It's cowardly."

The kindergarten teacher came running over to see what was the matter. "Mr. Armstrong! I'm terribly sorry, I don't know what happened! Olivia, are you okay? Do you need help?"

"What I need," Olivia said curtly, smoothing out her uniform, "is a new pair of gloves." With that, she removed her soiled gloves and threw them on the ground next to the pile of boys. Then she turned and began walking swiftly toward her father's car.

He hurried after her, beaming once again with pride as he noticed out of the corner of his eye the huddle of boys fighting to the death over who got to keep the treasured gloves of the Little Ice Queen.