Tired as the huddled masses she used to welcome, old lady Liberty suddenly realized the colossal irony of her gender. Like her sister, Justice.
Justice recently removed her blindfold because she had cataracts and didn’t need it anymore. Besides, it wasn’t really doing the trick. So often Justice wasn’t being served and scallywags and scoundrels were getting off Scott free. Bitterly, she mulled on that expression: Scott free.
These days Justice had begun to feel she was a victim in some BDSM joke waiting for instructions from Master. Anyway, she’d concluded a while back that her appointment was tokenism. They didn’t honestly think a woman capable of dispensing justice which was why the blindfold. Best not have judgement clouded with mild eyes.
About the same time, Liberty noticed she didn’t really have any liberty at all. Stuck on a pedestal with a fake torch that shorted out more often than stayed lit, she’d pretty much given up on being able to see any wretched refuse in the dark. So she and Justice packed it in. Liberty set down her torch and Justice lowered her scales. A couple of brazen male giants took over – and took credit.