She fought the law; the fight won, and after a while she and the law find themselves sheltering together behind a table as bottles smash around them.
“Who’s in the middle of that?” asks the law, wincing.
“I think it’s gone self-sustaining,” says Phyllis.
The law pulls its hat lower. “This is all your fault.”
“Of course,” she says bitterly, “the problem is always with the people, never with the legislation. Which is, need I remind you, made by people! Why do we pretend to have moved past an infallible ruling class when–”
The law snores gently. Phyllis smacks it.