Marc Miyaki asks:

What if the police in your neighborhood decided to learn from the UN?

Ooooh! Great question!

Brenda was alone in her bedroom one night, reading a book, when she heard what sounded like her patio door being wrenched open downstairs. Thankfully, her community had asked the UN to protect her -- she grabbed her cordless phone and dialed 9-1-1-U-N for help.

Operator: UN helpline -- what is your emergency?
Brenda, whispering fearfully: I think someone's breaking into my house!
Operator: What enthnicity are they? What's their religion?
Brenda: I don't know -- why should all that matter?
Operator: Remember, he might be an oppressed person who's just acting out in rage. By the way, what race are you? What's your household income? Do you own an SUV?
Brenda: I'm Korean, and I drive a Prius. But how does that matter? I'm afraid this guy might kill or rape me!
Operator: You qualify. Okay, I'll put it to a vote.
Brenda, whispering angrily: A vote?????
Operator: Oh yes. You're fortunate to have called when the Neighborhood Council was in session! We can't really have someone enter your home without their authorization, now, can we?
Brenda: But whoever's downstairs did!

The operator ignores her last comment and puts Brenda on hold. As "We are the World / We are the Children" plays reassuringly on the phone, Brenda hides in a corner of the closet. The noises continue below...

Operator: I'm back. You still there?
Brenda, hissing quietly: Yes, no thanks to you! What's the result!
Operator: They've denounced Israel. And they want to know if you'll be willing to give them some economic aid.
Brenda: What????
Operator: Hey, not everyone's as fortunate as you. They want some kind of economic aid.
Brenda: Tell them I'll buy them dinner.

The operator leaves, and, after a bit more delay, returns again.

Operator: That's good enough, as long as it's a decent restaurant. I mean, they represent Oppressed Peoples, so it wouldn't do to buy them less than four-star cuisine.
Brenda, sardonically: I'll remember that. If I get out of this alive.
Operator: We'll be sending someone over now.

By now, Brenda can hear footsteps on the stairs. They come up, stop briefly at the top of the landing, and turn down the hall in the opposite direction of her bedroom. She hears one of the doors down the hall open, and hears the intruder enter that room.

Seizing her chance, she crawls quietly from the closet. The intruder is still going through one of the rooms down the hall. Quickly, as quietly as she can, she darts from her room and tiptoes down the stairs. Once in the front hall, she opens the front door and steps out into the night air, in her robe and bare feet.

Outside, Brenda starts running towards the neighbor's house, to ask for help and shelter. As she reaches the propertly line, a light flashes suddenly flashes on, blinding her.

Voice: STOP! It's the UN! You can't go there!
Brenda, turning around, confused and squinting: Why not?
Voice: You can't just hide out on other people's property. You'll have to resolve your own problems.

Two UN officers grab her and forcibly restrain her from leaving her property, and drag her back.

Brenda: Stop this! There's an intruder in my house!
UN officer: Oh! Is there?

The entourage walks to the front porch. Finding the door still ajar, the officer who seems to be in charge walks in, gesturing for the others to follow. Soon, all, including Brenda, are gathered in Brenda's foyer.

UN officer, looking up stairs: Hello up there! It's the UN!
Intruder, echoing down from above: Oh, it is eh?
UN officer: Come down here. We'd like to negotiate! You have our assurances you won't be harmed!

Brenda, still forcibly restrained, is wriggling in disgust.

Brenda: Won't be harmed! Won't be harmed!!! He's in my house you nitwits! He's trying to rob or rape me! Arrest him! Get him out of here!
Officer: Now, now, enough of your talk of violence. That kind of talk never solved anything!

Brenda rolls her eyes heavenward.

Soon we hear the intruder coming down the stairs. A man dressed in black, carrying a bag full of Brenda's valuables, descends into view. As he reaches the bottom of stairs...

Officer: I'm Officer Gordon Anan! I represent the UN Council for the Protection and Englightenment of Mayberry.
Intruder: M' friends call me 'Bones'!

They shake hands. Officer Anan looks into Brenda's living room, and turns on the lights.

Officer Anan: My! This looks cozy! Bones, have a seat on the couch there.
Bones, getting comfy: Oh! This is naaice!

Anan turns to Brenda and the two officers restraining her.

Officer Anan: Brenda, would you mind getting some refreshments for Bones and my officers and joining us in the living room?
Brenda, livid: Wha... ? What??? You want me to feed this jerk!
Officer Anan: Now really, we don't need to be so hostile about it, so xenophobic. Sure, he's different than you, and comes from outside your property, but that's no reason for you to treat him so shabbily!
Brenda: B... but... But he's trying to rob me!
Officer Anan: Yes, well, I understand how you feel, but that's no excuse for being a poor host. You wouldn't want to have the Council condemn you now, would you?
Brenda, crestfallen: I suppose not.

Almost unable to believe what is happening, Brenda goes into the kitchen and pours several glasses of soda, while her two 'guards' stand over her, watching. "Bring some chips too!" resounds from her living room.

Soon Brenda emerges from the kitchen, glowering, carrying a platter with soft drinks and chips. She places them on the coffee table, and sits down in the chair furthest from Bones.

Officer Anan: Now, that won't do. You'll have to sit next to Bones.
Brenda: That's insane!
Officer Anan: Well how are we going to get along if we won't get to know each other?

Brenda's minders grab her again, drag her over to the couch, and sit her down next to Bones. She presses her body into the furthest corner of the couch.

Officer Anan: Alright, what seems to be the problem here!
Brenda: Listen you morons! He tried to rob me! He's broke into my house! He doesn't belong here!
Officer Anan: Please calm down Brenda. We've heard your side of things several times already now. Let's hear what Bones has to say...

Brenda goes back to sulking. The officers focus attentively on Bones.

Bones: Well, you see, I've always wanted to be an artist. But nobody wanted to hear what I had to say. Nobody bought my work. So I was left without a voice!
Officer Anan: Well, yes! I can understand how disempowed, how emasculated that would make you feel!
Bones: Yeah! And a guy's gotta eat! So, looking at my wardrobe, I thought: "What could I do to get some of the good things that other people had?" And then it came to me -- I could work as a burgler!
Officer Anan: Ah! Well it's good that you chose a career!
Bones: Well, it's not a very good one. People are always talking trash about us burglers, you know. Burglers this, Burglers that. People seem to fear us! Think of how that makes a guy feel!
Officer Anan: Traumatic!
Bones: So when I come here, do I get a welcome? Does this lady... (gestured towards Brenda)
Officer Anan: Her name is "Brenda"
Bones: Right. Does Brenda here welcome me? Does she put out the milk and cookies for me? No! She treats me with fear! She treats me like a second-class citizen!
Officer Anan: You have an excellent point there! That's deplorable!
Bones: Sure is! So instead, to compensate, I've just taken a few things. What else was I supposed to do? She wasn't offering me anything!
Brenda, interrupting: This is insane! He stole that stuff from me!
Officer Anan: Bones, what do you have to say?
Bones: Well, it isn't like she made these things, now, is it? I mean, she got them from someone else before, just like I did.
Brenda: But I BOUGHT them!
Officer Anan: Brenda, Bones hasn't had the same opportunities you have. You must recognize that you've led a priviledged existence!
Brenda, angrily: That's MY stuff and I want it back!!!
Officer Anan: Well, let's have a look, shall we?

And so they went through the items Bones had put into his bag, discussing each one, and whom it should go to, with the UN favoring a 50-50 split, a room in Brenda's house for Bones, and a shared decision-making process for running her house. Brenda, the uncompromising troublemaker, demanded all of "her stuff" back, and demanded Bones, and the UN, get out of her house.

Frustrated with the slow proceedings, and out of chips and soda, Bones eventually pulled a gun. The UN officers fled at the sight of it, leaving Brenda to fend for herself. Eventually, they sent a delegation back to collect her body. Meanwhile, Officer Anan moved on to "help" in bigger, more important problems, constantly demanding greater and greater responsibility and control.