Jimmy crack Gorn and I don't care
Up on a peak, a tall, pale man with hair like the face stamped on my leather hardback of Bulfinch's Mythology models a white sparkly dress and silver lace-up sandals. The Queen is dead -- long live the Queen! "You're a Metrone"? Kirk asks. MET-RON, YOU IDIOT!! THEY. ARE. METRONS!! God. "Does my appearance surprise you, Captain?" Kirk blinks and gives him the once-over: "You seem more like a boy." Oh, does he now? Well, when in Greece. And by the way, this thing is so Budget-Rent-An-Ep that ChlorBoyMetron must be standing in front of or behind glass, because you can see his sparklies reflected in it. His dress sparklies. "I am approximately fifteen hundred of your Earth years old," ChlorBoyMetron responds. They always have to be phantasmagorically older, don't they? They can never be younger and simply more intelligent because their brains happen to develop differently. ChlorBoyMetron goes on to say that Kirk surprised him by sparing his enemy and "showing the advanced trait of mercy." Oh, god -- I just had a nightmarish flashback. There's something about that voice and those sparklies...EW! EWW! My instinct was horribly wish-I-were-dead on! The voice for ChlorBoyMetron is the exact same one used for Scary Baby Man!
Accompanied by Tinkerbellish-Turn-The-Page harpsichord chimes, ChlorBoyMetron tells Kirk there may be a glimmer of hope for his kind: "Therefore, you will not be destroyed, it would not be...civilized." Well, duh -- he's technically the winner and is therefore allowed to live. Kirk smiles through his powder keg facial and asks what happened to RuGorn. "I sent him back to his ship. If you like, I shall destroy him for you," ChlorBoyMetron drones. But wouldn't that show that the quality of mercy is not strained through a sieve, and that the Metrons don't practice what they preach from the Mount? But I guess ChlorBoyMetron is still testing this idiophone. Kirk doesn't feel like destroying any more things today, and decides that maybe humans and Gorn can chin-wag their way to an agreement. "Very good, Captain. There is hope for you," ChlorBoyMetron condescends. "Perhaps in several thousand years your people and mine shall meet to reach an agreement. You're still half savage but there is hope. We will contact you when we are ready." That's the higher-being equivalent of, "Don't call us, we'll call you."