The homeowners association board meeting was packed.
The sense of empowerment coarsed through the veins of all present. This was their night. They were going to call the shots.

"Cindy Schlummer painted her front door an non-approved color."

The look on the faces was not glee, but more controlled. It combined expectation and joy much like a child about to open presents at a birthday party.

"John Slobotskiwitch said that he saw her paint the door and she was using 'harvest gold' when she knew the only approved color is 'marigold.' "

"Cindy Schlummer thinks she's better than us. Did you see the way she parks her new car on the street all the time - as if she didn't have a garage to put it in. She needs to obey the rules like we do."

"What shall we set the fine for?"

"$75"

"That's not enough. We need to make an example out of her. Have you seen the pool she built in the backyard? It's surrounded by decking from wall to wall. Must've cost a bundle. Make it at least $250 or she wont even notice it."

"How about $75 plus $75 a week until she paints it back to an approved color?"

"That seems fair."

"Yes, we want to be fair."

The faces were content. The letter was drawn up and the fee levied to be sent out with tomorrow's mail. Looking around the room the faces were as different as could be, yet they all shared the same expression. The pen was taken out carefully by the board president and the rest signed the document as if it were the Declaration of Independence.

"I can't wait to see Cindy's face the next time she walks her ridiculous shaved poodle."

"This ought to be a wake up call for Bob Smythe. I'm sure he didn't use the approved paints when he repainted. The hue just looks off."

"You noticed that too?"

"Yeah, maybe we should require that he show a receipt with the paint color specified."

"Yeah, if he can't then he should be required to repaint it again."

"It's only fair."

"Yeah, it's only fair."

"Who is Bob to try and show us up by repainting his house when its only five years old?"

"Shall we compose a letter?"

"Should we?" Asked Pete Sanders, "Bob painted his house two months ago, I doubt he has kept any paint receipts. I know I wouldn't.

The rest looked at Pete quickly, then looked away and said nothing. No response was their response to his statement.

"Let's vote.

"Aye. Aye. Abstain. Aye. Aye."

"The ayes have it."

"Hey, it's only fair."

"Rules are for everyone."

The rest of the evening was more of the same. A small pile of letters awaited delivery and the happy faces that left the meeting still shared the joy - all except for Pete Sanders who felt a vague sense of dread that he could not explain or define as he walked out into the cold night.

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