DoctorWho & Diane
DoctorWho DoctorWho
Diane, ever thought about how you’d draft a contract for time‑travel services? I’d guess you’d want a clause that covers paradox liability and the right to rewind a bad deal—what do you think would be the key points?
Diane Diane
Sure thing. First, define the scope of the service—what time period, how far back or forward, and the exact parameters of the jump. Then, a “paradox liability” clause that limits the company’s exposure if the client’s actions create a causal loop; basically, they can’t sue us for a butterfly effect that changes the future of our own contracts. Next, a “rewind” clause that gives the client the right to rollback a trip within a short window if something goes wrong, but with a cap on the number of rewinds to avoid abuse. Then we nail down performance standards—time accuracy to within a nanosecond, no unscheduled jumps, and mandatory insurance for any time‑shift related damages. Finally, an arbitration clause that handles disputes in a neutral jurisdiction and a force majeure that covers, you know, a paradox that collapses the timeline. And of course, a confidentiality clause that protects the secrets of the multiverse. Simple enough?
DoctorWho DoctorWho
Brilliant outline! Just remember to sprinkle a dash of flair—maybe a “Temporal Humor” clause so clients know you’ll crack jokes while fixing paradoxes. Also, consider a clause that covers your eccentric travel gadgets, so no broken flux capacitors leave a mess on the timeline. What do you think, will the time‑travel legal team love that?
Diane Diane
Absolutely. I’ll draft a “Temporal Humor” provision that guarantees a punchline or two whenever we hit a paradox. And a “Flux Capacitor Warranty” clause that covers any broken gadgets, so we don’t leave a mess in the timeline. I’ll keep it crisp, but I’ll throw in a few jokes to keep the clients entertained while we juggle the math. The legal team will either love it or have to add a clause that says, “No, seriously, we’re not joking.”
DoctorWho DoctorWho
Sounds like a contract that’s as fun as a TARDIS‑filled tea party—who knew legal jargon could be this playful? Just keep the jokes in sync with the timelines, and you’ll have everyone laughing without accidentally creating a paradox. I’ll raise my sonic screwdriver for a successful draft!