This, precisely, for me too. Except it was just Chun Li in general. I love the idea of this gorgeous, confident, arrogant woman walking into battle in the most elaborate and fancy clothing only to get her ass kicked. Seeing Chun Li laying graceless and spreadeagle on her back, unconscious following a humiliating defeat in Street Fighter II. Nearly 20 years later and this still gets my heart racing. Her once-immaculate clothing and hair now disheveled following what has proven an unceremonious defeat (for someone previously so sanctimonious), she lays publicly humbled after her hopes and ambitions have been shattered due to her inadequacy. Her piercing cry of defeat echoes, its pathetic timbre resonating off nearby architecture and ringing in the eardrums of those bearing witness to the manifest failure of this ostensibly mighty force. When she awakes (if she awakes), it is to a splitting headache and absolute physical torment in her loins, the throbbing soreness in her heroically-fashioned legs triumphant over any and all futile efforts to remain upright. Universe shattered and unable to fathom such an unanticipated turn of events, she collapses and permits the darkness to overtake her before wholly losing her grip on reality, a soft moan escaping the rosary of her blood-stained mouth--inadvertently fixed open as if to silently ask, "How can this have happened?" Her status as "strongest woman in the world" rendered dubious, her subservience to the whims of man an obvious fucking certainty.