BAM! The door splintered off its hinges, and toppled into the room. The cats yowled and scrambled under the furniture. Six police officers with plexiglass masks and riot guns stormed into the room and surrounded Granny’s overstuffed floral-patterned armchair.
“Oh, my!” said Granny.
“Drop the knitting!” shouted one of the officers. “And keep your hands were we can see them!” he added.
Granny released the needles, and the scarf fell into her lap with the yarn. The officer who had spoken reached out with the barrel of his gun and nudged the knitting from her lap onto the floor.
“Clear!” shouted another officer.
A young plainclothes officer carrying a digital clipboard entered the room, gingerly stepping over the wreck of the door. He gave the heap of knitting a scowl, and stopped in front of Granny. The riot police shifted aside to give him a clear view of her.
“Abigail Theresa Winslow?” the officer read from his clipboard.
Granny removed her reading glasses and looked up at the man. “Yes, that’s my name.” she said.
“You are hereby charged with Economic Terrorism in the 2nd Degree. You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say is being recorded, and can be used against you in a court of law.”
“I don’t understand!” wailed Granny, wringing her hands.
The officer ducked down and picked up Granny’s knitting. He held it up to the light, lifting it with only his thumb and forefinger, as if he did not like to touch it.
“This is a beautiful scarf, Mrs. Winslow.” he said.
“Oh, thank you, but–” Granny began confusedly.
“I can tell you spent a lot of time on it.” said the officer.
“Well, yes, I–”
“We have witnesses willing to attest that you sell these scarves for no more than the cost of the yarn…”
“Yes, I just enjoy making–”
“…Severely undercutting the prices of your commercial competitors by an order of magnitude, in spite of the fact that your scarves are obviously superior handcrafted products.”
“I… I… well, … Thank you?” said Granny, still confused, but recognizing the compliment to her handiwork.
“Don’t get funny with me, Lady!” the officer snapped, leaning in close to Granny’s face. “You should be ashamed of yourself! This sort of underpricing makes me sick! I’ve come to expect this kind of altruistic bull from hackers and teachers, but I never expected it from a respectable citizen with no criminal record. What is this world coming to?”
“Well, I never!” exclaimed Granny.
“Take her away, boys.” said the officer.
Two of the riot police gently handcuffed Granny, and lead her out of the room.
“Send in forensics to bag the evidence.” said the officer, dropping the knitting, and wiping his thumb and forefinger on his shirt. He looked around the room, and shook his head sadly. “When will people learn? She acted like she didn’t even know it was wrong.”