"Ma'am, be quiet," the second officer snapped, looking at the deed. He then looked down at the grass near the gate. "Frank, there are bolt cutters right here. And the lock is sheared clean in half."
Marcus pulled out his phone and hit play on the security footage. The officers watched in crystal-clear 4K resolution as Brenda enthusiastically destroyed the padlock and ushered the crowd inside.
The lead officer sighed, shaking his head. He handed the phone back to Marcus and turned to Brenda. The look of disgust on his face was palpable.
"Brenda Hastings, you are under arrest for breaking and entering, destruction of private property, and trespassing," the officer said, pulling a pair of steel handcuffs from his belt.
"You can't do this! I am the President!" Brenda shrieked, physically recoiling as the officer grabbed her arm. "I have immunity!"
"You have a court date," the officer corrected, forcefully pulling her arms behind her back. The steel cuffs clicked shut with a satisfying finality.
Marcus stood on his patio, his hands in his pockets, watching as the drenched, humiliated "Queen" of Oak Creek was marched out of his yard in handcuffs. The gate closed behind them. Marcus looked around at his soaked, empty oasis. It would take an hour to clean up the wet towels and trash, but as he listened to the police cruiser drive away, a genuine smile finally broke across his face. His sanctuary was quiet once more.