As Lisa was wondering what the point of dressing her up like a prostitute was, she became aware of the sounds of arguing and screaming all around her.
"How ... how did I get here?" a fairly attractive dark-skinned woman in a police uniform asked. Lisa didn't recognize her. She wasn't a cop.
Another woman looked down at herself in shock. "Why the fuck am I dressed like a cop?"
"Hey! Why am I handcuffed?" a college-aged guy yelled. "Don't you know who I am?!"
"Hey, baby," a somewhat hefty man (dressed in a suit and tie and wearing a police chief badge) said to Lisa, leering at her. She didn't know who this guy was, but he was certainly not a police chief. He reached behind her and squeezed her ass.
"Get your hands off of me, you pervert," Lisa spat at him. "I'm not a hooker!"
"Well, maybe if you didn't dress like one ..." He didn't get to finish his sentence, because one of the "new" cops collided into him, after being slugged in the face by another.
Being handcuffed to the bench, Lisa had no choice but watch the ensuing brawl that took place right in front of her. She yelled at them, to try and make them stop, but they weren't listening.
At first she thought that someone had just done something to her, but it now looked more widespread than that. What was happening?
