At last report, we'd gone two rounds and gotten the pool down to 38. After a refreshing five minute break the judges were herded back to the reading cages and told to get serious about choosing finalists.
The sound of wailing and gnashing was heard throughout the land.
Eyeglasses wore out. Eyeballs too.
The Keeper of the Timetable urged everyone on:
There were Threats.
There was Conniving.
A lot of Pleading. (Also, the Alot, pleading)
The constabulary arrived.
Combatants were sorted, summonses written , and order restored. Sort of. There was grudging agreement.
There will be one more round before the finalists are announced this weekend. If the judges can stay out of the hoosegow. And the bar. And perhaps each others faces.