They're being interviewed

"Madam, would you like to explain what you're protesting here?"

The microphone is held in front of Eve's mouth. Prior to the live broadcast, the news correspondent had agreed upon some set questions that she was going to ask each of the three women.

"On the 6th June, some arrests were made at Lady Luck's bar downtown, a well known lesbian bar. The officer who made the arrests marched each woman out to the street in front, and sat them down with handcuffs behind their backs, while he waited for backup. He could have kept them inside the venue, but no, he chose to sit them on the sidewalk." Eve gives her well-rehearsed speech.

"Why is this an issue?"

"Well firstly, this left the marginalized women **** to sexist and homophobic heckling from drunk and antisocial passersby, all male of course. I might add that none of these men were arrested or saw any kind of consequences for their street harassment. Secondly, and most unacceptably, one of the women, who I shall not name, for her own privacy, was not 'out'. That is to say, she was keeping her sexuality private, and her family, friends and coworkers were all unaware. Until that day, when thanks to Officer James Johnson's actions, her cousin happened to walk by and see her sat there, being arrested, clearly in attendance at a lesbian bar. This fiend has, in essence, outed her against her will. That is a hate crime."

"So why are you here, exactly?" The microphone is moved to 22 year old Suzanne's mouth.

"We are here, cuffed to James Johnson's own fence, in solidarity of our sisters who were so awfully treated last week." Suzanne croons. "If he is going to out our friends as lesbians, we are going to out him as a homophobic sexist pig."

"And how long will this protest last?"

"We're going to stay put until Officer Johnson and his department issue official apologies and admit wrongdoing."

"Do you think that likely?" The mic has moved on to Gwen.

"Well, you local news types have shown up already. Give it a few days, the national news will be all over this."

"Many of the comments coming in online suggest that people largely believe that you're just looking for a bit of cheap attention, and will be gone before dusk. What do you say to that?"

"You see these handcuffs? We don't even have the keys. The person that does have them lives on the other side of town, and is under strict instructions to only come and release us when our demands are met, or in case of emergency. We're here for the long haul."

The mic is moved back to Suzanne. "One commenter, calling themselves TheDude, says that you're not really serious rights activists, but in fact just 'bondage-loving exhibitionists **** for male attention'. How would you like to respond to that?"

22 year old Suzanne grimaces. That was not on the approved list of questions, and it's the most offensive thing she's heard in a long time.

"I... What?! Why would you even give such offensive drivel the time of day?! This is not about attention, we don't WANT men to look at us sexually, at all!"

A small crowd of bystanders has begun to form, mainly men for some reason, and one particularly nasty man yells "You're not exactly hiding those puppies, cupcake!" They can't see who - he must be hiding somewhere at the back, the coward.

22 year old Suzanne rages. "Did you get that?? You see what we have to put up with?!"

"Right." The middle aged news correspondent agrees. "It's the 21st century. Women should be able to wear whatever provocative clothes they want without being heckled. But can you blame people for looking?"

Ugh, she's trying her best, but her wording is still extremely problematic. Suzanne goes red in the face, and if her hands weren't cuffed to the railing, she would have covered her chest, where the shape of her E cup boobs are only slightly hidden by her T-shirt.

"This is not provocative! It's normal!" She protests. "Women with naturally well endowed chests should not be treated differently just because... Ugh! This is not what we're here to talk about today!"

But they've already stopped paying attention to her. Because out of his door, in civilian clothes, has appeared the man himself - James Johnson. He's carrying a tray holding some large objects covered with a cloth.