Sargent Jacob Meyers watches the “Liberate the Lemonades” group, some single-day bullshit event from the larger, transnational hippie conspiracy “We Are Change” group, as they intentionally break the law in front of the White House. Selling cups of lemonade for ‘ten cents,’ they are luring people in to drink the lemonade. It is a hot day, and a drink like that would seem appealing.
“Liberate the lemons.”
His annoyance with these people is rising, and several other police officers have arrived on the scene as well. Unlike the others, he is a member of the Smithsonian Lodge of Maryland, and he has been given a direct order by his ranking officer, another lodge member:
Instances where the law is being broken by anyone who seems to have a clear understanding of the law, is to be dealt with in a way that would be a deterrent to those who do not.
These, mostly kids, are law students and other civil rights activists who are here to make a point. Sargent Meyers doesn’t really fucking care what that point is; all he cares about is the fact that they're trying to intentionally do something illegal and use the cover of something that people happen to like as the backdrop in which to do it. It’s past the point where people should be able to just disrupt government because they feel like it, and it’s Jacob’s job as a police officer to operate in the grey to work to disestablish some of the more archaic, and restricting laws the constitution places on police officers and the work that they do. It may not be the most important work, but it is important. Sargent Meyers keeps these punks safe at night.
In the lodge you learn that your will power stems from a divine order, and to accept impedance is nothing short of blasphemy. This is an important lesson to learn as a cop, and Jacob has become better for it. The uninitiated are irrelevant. The lodge has their plans, to which he is not fully privy, but if preventing these nutjob fucks on the front lawn of the White House from accomplishing their socially disruptive mission is a part of it, then Jacob will use his positioning in society to aid in the great work—after all, it is of the divine order, and the ends of the craft supersede the individual whims of kids on computers. They wouldn't understand even this police officer just spilled the beans suddenly.
“Get your lemonade.”
A young family walks up to Sargent Meyers: Mom, Dad, and two kids. “What is going on here officer?” the father asks.
“This group of radicals is selling lemonade without a permit.” Sargent Meyers keeps a neutral tone. “We’re surveying the situation.”
The family looks other to the young kids and similar parents lining up for the drink. “Seems harmless.” The mother this time. She forces a laugh to emphasize her observation, glaring at Sargent Meyers.
“Ma’am, with all due respect, I’m not at liberty to discuss the full extent of the details at play here.”
The father, a relatively demur-looking man pipes up with more force now. “You’re not at liberty to discuss why there are 6 police officers standing around watching a lemonade stand instead of policing the streets?”
“Not the full extent of those details, no, sir.”
Meyers, come in, over.
The Sargent picks up his radio from its attachment on his breast pocket. “Meyers here.”
This is Brass. How many people are there filming now?
Jacob surveys the situation. “I would say about seven or eight.”
The family he was talking to is now looking around as well. Meyers walks away from them to get some privacy. The father mutters something about being a “public servant.”
Shut it down. Arrest them all. Use whatever force required.
“Yes, sir.” Jacob turns back to the family, who has not yet moved into the line. “Alright, folks, show is over,” he says to them, before turning back around to the gathering of people, moving into it and shouting what he said again much more loudly. “Alright, folks, show is over. These people are all under arrest for selling lemonade without a permit,” Sargent Meyers finishes, walking up to the lemonade stand. He gives the rest of the squad the signal “No one here moves. You’re all under arrest.”
The cops move in, repeating the verdict, grabbing the mostly female perpetrators. Jacob grabs one in particular he found the most annoying, squeezing her arm in such a way that it hurts without bruising.
“Ow! Watch it!”
“You’re under arrest. Put your hands behind your back.”
“For selling lemonade? That is fucking absurd!”
Someone else from the on looking audience chimes in. “Why don’t you go police the actual criminals?”
He gives this a response tailored for the camera, turning to look directly in it, flashing a lucid grin. “This group knowingly sold lemonade without a permit. We gave them multiple warnings to leave, and they proceeded to ignore those warnings. They wanted to get arrested, and now they are.”
“Don’t you see what you’re turning this country into? We’re going to put this footage on Youtube. People are starting to get fed up with these unlawful actions of police officers!”
Sargent Meyers grins to himself.