Round 6

Judge: cloverkitty

5.0 deced VALID "Professor!"

"What is it, Ace?" He was impatient, frustrated.

"Where the blinking hell have you brought us now?"

The Doctor emitted a low rumble: "I rrrrather think you alrrrrready know..."

"Oh, is this part of my 'training'?"

"Not part of it, Ace: the end of it... one way or another." He grimaced, inscrutably.

"What am I meant to do? Find some ancient foot in a box and use it to flatten the freaky dimensions in this place? Find the right cactus to eat to make the sky look reasonable for a moment? Confront my fear of fudge?"

"Always trying to see patterns, aren't you? Typical human: forcing everything into a narrrrrrrative, devising - in your wild, fantasy rrrrrrrules - rrrrrestrrrrictions on themselves and on future rrrrrules and putting them into the mouths of aliens, as if they thought humans typically behaved in accordance with such rrrestrrrictions."

Ace gazed vaguely in an implausible and ill-defined direction... "I suppose I could try this Nitro-Aleph-Nine on the creepy dimensions. BOOM!"

5.1 themink VALID So representative of the humans whose company he enjoyed so much (and very atypical of a Time Lord), every word the Doctor had said until then had been factually correct yet lacking in perspective.

Being neither human nor a Time lord, I possess a clearer perspective than most, and that's the reason I tell this tale. But I won't reveal my identity or the role I play for some time yet.

5.2 deced VALID cloverkitty, a cat-person of New Earth, curled up on an ornately comfortable throne, adjusted her wreath of four-leaf clovers to a rakish angle. 'Next...' she purred.

A human man entered the courtroom, his expression not blank but in a sort of dynamic equilibrium: motionless, but fizzing with energy.

'You are accused of glorification of gerontocracy, of committing acts of antifeline violence, and of belonging to the banned organizationPeople That Want Old Men Instead of Cats. Do you have anything to say in your defence?' She lapped at a golden saucer.

'Judge cloverkitty, join us! PTwomic needs you!'

'CUT!' cried cloverkitty. She had risen precipitously to her feet, and her wreath righted itself and slipped forward into an altogether more stern angle. 'I will not have the defendant abusing the platform. Under Clause IX, I order the last minute of the transmission retroactively destroyed. The media will depart, and this session will continue in closed mode.' She turned to the defendant, and hissed: 'This is so typical of your species. You'll always find a way to get a message to one of your fellow members, though it be expressly forbidden. I supposecloverkitty is the codename for one of your sleeper operatives? I'm not flattered. More of this, and I'll hold you in contempt of cat.'

Winner: deced