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'Urg,' replied Penelope.
'Mr Jambe?' said Mr Runcorn, who had been working on a rearguard legal challenge to the anti-Neanderthal ruling.
'Yes? Do we have a case?'
'I'm afraid not. I can't seem to find any grounds. The non-human precedent was overruled on appeal — I'm very sorry, sir. I think I'm playing very badly - might I resign and bring on the legal substitute?'
'It's not your fault,' said Jambe kindly. 'Have the substitute lawyer continue the search.'
Runcorn bowed and went to sit on the lawyers' bench, where a young man in a badly fitting suit had been sitting silently throughout the first third.
'That Duchess is murder,' muttered Biffo breathlessly. 'She almost had me twice.'
'Isn't striking an opponent a red-card three-hoop penalty offence?' I asked.
'Of course! But if she can take out our best player, then it might be worth it. Keep an eye on her, everyone.'
'Mr Jambe?'
It was the referee, who told us that further litigation had been brought against our team. We dutifully approached the Port-a-Court, where the judges were just signing an amendment to the World Croquet League book of law.
'What is it?'
'As a result of the Danish Economic (Scapegoat) Act coming into law, people of Danish descent are not permitted to vote or take key jobs.'
'When did this law come into effect?'
'Five minutes ago.'
I looked up at Kaine in the VIP box. He smiled and waved at me.
'So?' asked Jambe. 'Kaine's dopey ideas have no relevance to croquet - this is sport, not politics.'
The Whackers' lawyer, Mr Wapcaplitt, coughed politely.
'In that you would be mistaken. The definition of "key job" includes any highly paid sports personality. We have conducted some background checks and discovered that Ms Penelope Hrah was born in Copenhagen — she's Danish.'
Jambe was silent.
'I might have been born there but I'm not Danish' said Hrah, taking a menacing step towards Wapcaplitt. 'My parents were on holiday at the time.'
'We are well aware of the facts,' intoned Wapcaplitt, 'and have already sought judgment on this matter. You were born in Denmark, you are technically Danish, you are in a "key job" and are thus disqualified from playing on this team.'
'Balls!' yelled Aubrey. 'If she was born in a kennel would that make her a dog?'
'Hmm,' replied the attorney thoughtfully, 'it's an interesting legal question.'
Penelope couldn't contain herself any longer and went for him. It took four of us to hold her back, and she had to be forcibly restrained and frog-marched from the green.
'Down to five players,' muttered Jambe. 'Below the minimum player requirement.'
'Yes,' said Mr Wapcaplitt glibly, 'it appears the Whackers are the winners—'
'I think not,' interrupted our substitute lawyer, whose name we learned was Twizzit. 'As my most esteemed colleague so rightly pointed out, the rule states: "any team that fails to start the game with the minimum of six players forfeits the match". The way I see it, the match has already begun and we can carry on playing with five. Your honours?'
The judges put their heads together for a moment and then pronounced:
'This court finds for the Swindon Mallets in this matter. They may continue to play into the second third with five players.'
