It's rewind time! She needs to be more fun.

“Mr. Jester!” Eloise barked, her voice cutting through the room like a whip. “You will restore everything to normal immediately, or I will hold you in contempt of court!”

Mr. Jester turned toward her with a smirk, resting his hands casually on the remote. “Oh, Your Honor,” he said, his tone dripping with mockery. “You’re so rigid. So bound by rules and protocol. I can see why fun isn’t exactly your forte. But don’t worry—I’ve got just the fix for that.”

Eloise glared at him, her silver hair gleaming under the courtroom lights as she leaned forward, her fingers gripping the edge of her desk. “What are you talking about? I demand—”

Mr. Jester raised the remote and, with the same calm confidence as before, pressed and held the rewind button.

The judge was immediately engulfed in a shimmering, static-like glow, as though her body were being unraveled and reassembled by invisible threads. Gasps filled the room, the noise of the crowd filling the room. Slowly but surely, the years began to melt off Judge Sinclair’s appearance.

Her silver hair darkened to a deep, glossy black, cascading in soft waves over her shoulders. The faint lines of age on her face disappeared, her features sharpening into youthful elegance. Her posture straightened, and her frame grew leaner and more energetic. By the time the glow subsided, the formidable Judge Sinclair was gone. In her place sat a strikingly beautiful woman in her early twenties, her wide, almond-shaped eyes blinking in confusion.

She looked down at herself, her judicial robes now draped awkwardly over her slim, youthful figure. “What... What's happening? Where am I?” she asked, her voice higher and softer than before, with a tone of uncertainty.

Before she could proceed further, Mr. Jester interrupted, leaning forward with a grin. “Well, well, that’s better, isn’t it? You’ve got your youth back, Your Honor. Though, I have to say...” He gave a dramatic pause, glancing at the remote in his hand. “You still don’t seem to know what’s best for you. A shame, really. I think you need a little more… personality.”

Aiming the remote at the now young Eloise. He pressed the change channel button.

The young judge was once again enveloped in light, but this time, it shimmered with an absurd array of colors—reds, blues, yellows—all swirling around her like the static of a broken TV set. The transformation was instantaneous, and when the glow faded, the room collectively gasped.

Gone were the somber judicial robes. In their place was an outrageous ensemble that looked like it had been ripped straight from a children’s television show. Brightly colored overalls with oversized pockets, a neon-pink bow perched atop her head, and mismatched striped socks pulled over chunky red sneakers. Her face was painted with exaggerated makeup: rosy cheeks, glittery eyelids, and an enormous, toothy smile.

The new Judge Sinclair—or rather, whatever she had become—sprang to her feet, radiating manic energy. She clapped her hands together, bouncing on the balls of her feet like an overexcited child. “Oh wow! Hi, everyone!” she exclaimed, her voice now cartoonishly high-pitched and full of cheer. “I’m your super-duper fun host, Ellie the Game Queen! Who’s ready to play some games?”

The room was stunned into silence, save for a few nervous laughs from the jury, as though they couldn’t quite process what they were seeing.

Ellie the Game Queen, as she now called herself—leapt down from her dais with the energy of a five-year-old who’d just consumed a gallon of sugar. “Come on, everyone! Let’s play a game! How about... Simon Says!”

The colorful host clapped her hands together, sending a ripple of unnatural energy through the room. People visibly stiffened as though an invisible **** had taken hold of them.

“No, absolutely not!” Clara stammered, trying to resist, but the moment Ellie shouted, “Simon says stand up!” the entire room—jury, spectators, and even the stenographer—shot to their feet.

Ellie giggled gleefully, her exaggerated expressions making her look almost puppet-like. “Good job, everyone! Now, Simon says... hop on one foot!”

The room devolved into a surreal spectacle. Tina Collins, the forewoman, looked mortified as she awkwardly began hopping in her heels, her professional demeanor crumbling. Helen Sainz, the stenographer, hopped at her desk, her chair clattering over as she tried to keep up. Even the jury members hopped with increasing frustration, unable to resist the childish command.

“Stop hopping!” Ellie suddenly shouted, but when a few people froze mid-hop, she wagged her finger. “Oops! Simon didn’t say! Keep hopping, silly billies!”

“Looks like you silly billies need to be punished.” Ellie said as she stroked her chin. “I know! Simon says stop hopping. Everyone who failed came to the front. Simon says you will get naked and get spanked by me 10 times!”

First in line was none other than Clara, she looked over at Mr Jester almost pleading with him to stop the madness. But he just winked in reply.

As soon as Clara reached the game queen, Ellie clapped her hands causing Clara’s clothes to dematerialize. She was just in the process of covering herself up when she felt the judge grab her by the hair and toss her over her knee. The first spank came without warning, the sound travelling across the courtroom. “ONE!” Ellie shouted with glee. Clara was crying now but no sound escaped her mouth.

The humiliation was palpable. Professionals who had once carried themselves with dignity now looked like an uncoordinated group of schoolchildren, all under the spell of the overly animated game host.

Mr. Jester leaned back in his chair, watching the scene unfold with quiet satisfaction. “Ah, the dignity of the court,” he mused aloud. “You’ve got to admit, Your Honor—oh, I mean, Ellie—it’s much more entertaining this way.”

Ellie, stopping midway from delivering another spank to the defense attorney’s ample ass, clapped again. “Let’s keep playing! Simon says… play with your no-no parts!”

The room descended further into chaos as adults in suits and skirts dropped their hands down to their crotches openly masturbating in the courtroom. Mr. Jester chuckled, his fingers hovering over the remote as he observed his masterpiece of absurdity.

Suddenly he felt a small tickle at his cheek as a small metal object clattered to the floor. Looking down he saw a single bullet rolling away from his feet. Almost amused, he looked at the only possible source of the bullet. Officer Grace Lin had finally managed to aim her gun at the enigmatic defendant and seemed to have gotten a shot off, only for it to bump harmlessly against his cheek.

“Looks like this courtroom could do with some more changes” He said as he pointed the remote at the officer once again.