Words by:  Lizzie Tooth
Art by:  Kenneth Toh

I’ve recently been put on the award-winning drama, Orange is the New Black. In the span of two months, I’ve finished each one-hour-long episode from all seven seasons of the show.

Some may say I got a tad bit obsessed. And whilst that may be the case, it’s inspired me to reflect on my most recent run-in with the law, my Firework Felony. 

Let me set the scene: early January 2024, my good friend’s birthday party. I had been drinking a lot prior, and someone at the party suggested we all go down to the nearest oval and light up some fireworks. The birthday girl couldn’t find any reason not to, so next thing you know, the whole party was relocated. 

Three fireworks were set off. The first didn’t get too far, the second was much brighter and the third and final was lit by yours truly. Yes, I know, a tad silly of me, but when someone offers you to light a firework, who are you to say no? Once the final firework had gone off, in quite a spectacular way may I add, everyone started yelling. That’s because the inevitable had happened. The cops had shown up. 

Being in the middle of the oval, right next to the scene of the crime, wasn’t a good look for me, so I ran. Not knowing the way back, I sprinted alongside a few other attendees, hoping they had a better sense of direction. Unfortunately, I was not so fortunate. I’d made it through the oval and crossed the road, but before I knew it, I was trapped. A wall on my right and two police cars with flashing lights cornered me in, along with two other unfortunate partygoers. There was no escape. 

The police exited the car and approached me; who was quite literally shaking in her boots. They asked if I’d heard any fireworks go off recently, to which I confidently replied no, despite knowing full well there is video evidence of me lighting one. They then asked for my ID, which I didn’t have on me. I did have a photo on my phone, which I only realised after they said we’d have to go to the station to sort it out. Since I was drunk out of my mind, this panicked me and I kept telling them I couldn’t go to the station because I had work tomorrow. That landed well, as you can assume. 

This whole interaction was quite amusing in the grand scheme of things, given that I was wearing a Batman shirt. Like, come on, guys, I’m one of the good guys. Luckily, they didn’t find any damning evidence on me, so they let me go with a written warning. 

And with that, I got into my metaphorical Batmobile and fled into the night. 

For any undercover cops out there reading this, please don’t take that as an invitation. Just because I like the show doesn’t mean I want to live it!