[ WP ] In a unanimous decision , the US Supreme Court decided to label caffeine a Schedule I drug . Describe the fallout to this decision and the United States post caffeine illegality .

That day was a turning point in American history, June 27, 2015, the day caffeine went rogue. I woke up that day, groggy and unmotivated, and went to the bathroom with half-closed eyes and disheveled hair. Shuffling to my kitchen, I heard loud noises and yells outside, but in my sluggish state ignored it and continued to brew my morning cup of Joe. The dark, toasty fragrance pervaded the apartment and I hummed happily as I took my first sip. I cooked myself some eggs and bacon, and turned on the TV to the news. “ Breaking news. This just in, ” as I took a long draft of coffee, the man on the screen looked up at the camera with an expression of confusion and horror, but mostly confusion, “ The Supreme Court of the United States of America has unanimously labeled caffeine a Schedule 1 drug. It is no longer legal for any person to manufacture, dispense, or possess any form of this ‘ highly dangerous, psychoactive stimulant ’. We don ’ t know what this means for the future of America, but we will update you as soon as we have news. ” I sprayed the contents of my mouth onto the table and looked panickedly at my mug. 
 
 “ Oh god, ” I muttered under my breath. Finally fully awake, a disconcerting thought ran across my mind. New York City, the city that never sleeps, probably never slept for a reason. I ran to my window and peered outwards. The scene was like something out of a movie. There were large crowds roaming through the street, so I foolishly decided to go outside and see what was happening. As soon as I stepped out, the gravity of the situation hit me hard. I smelled a fragrance far darker, and far toastier, than the one in my apartment. Cars and small buildings burned in the distance, and like a moth to a flame, the rioters flocked towards them. 
 
 I ran with them, heart pounding, as anger welled up inside me. How can the government ban caffeine? That was my livelihood, my motivation, my reason to get up in the mornings. Others must have felt that way as well. The closer I got to Times Square, the more violent the rioters got. I saw one man, bearded and shirtless with the physique of a starving artist, climb onto a truck. The back of the truck was filled with large bags of ground coffee. He proceeded to douse himself in gasoline and light himself aflame. He held his arms out to the side and proclaimed, “ Coffee is the light of the world! ” as he fell back into the pile of drugs. There he laid, laughing and burning, and his precious substance burned with him. 
 
 Times Square was the worst. Hundreds of thousands swarmed the streets, looting, murdering, and committing arson. I looked for a place to hide and snuck into an inconspicuous garbage can. From there, I had a perfect view of the chaos. It seemed as though the local National Rifle Association club had taken up shop at the Times Square Starbucks and was guarding its limited supply of caffeine. A desperate teen, a girl of about 16 tried to enter the Starbucks, yelling demands of a “ tall, nonfat latte with caramel drizzle ”, but her cries went unheard. The guard at the door stood solemnly, unphased by the girl ’ s order. When she tried to walk passed him, he rammed the butt of his rifle into her face. The girl fell back with a terrified squeal and slammed her head on the pavement, still. 
 
 I suppressed my urge to vomit all over myself, still cowering in a depository, and forced myself to look away. What caught my attention next was the Jumbotron. It showed a live broadcast of the news. The anchor hastily rattled of the current events and placed to avoid. He was sweating furiously and looked paler than the NRA guards. One story caught my attention; the news anchor explained, “ A symbolic scene is taking place in Boston today. At Boston Harbor, a group who call themselves the Caffeine Prohibition Revolutionaries have hijacked several ships with coffee and tea shipments and are dumping them into the harbor. ” I chuckled to myself at the ridiculous nature of the situation. I sat and watched the Jumbotron for about 15 minutes before I began to choke on smoke entering my unexpected shelter. I crawled out and was nearly trampled as I got up. Activity in the square had not abated, so I decided that going home would be the safest course of action. I took off sprinting, but stopped almost immediately when I heard the loud rumble of footsteps in unison. I looked down the street that led to my house and saw a line of National Guard soldiers sweeping towards me. I stood in the open, incredulous as I saw them beat back the mad population before them. I turned my head back to the Jumbotron which had a bird ’ s-eye view of Times Square. The cut to shots of the soldiers pushing toward the square and behind them a fleet of hummers with “ POLICE ” painted in blue across their fronts. On top of the vehicles were a round, black discs which the news anchor called the “ LRAD, or Long Range Acoustic Device ”. I thought to myself, “ What? They ’ re gon na stop this riot with a concert? ” 
 
 When the small army found itself near the riot epicenter, I found my answer. A wall of high pitched screeching filled the square and some fell to the floor while the rest of the rioters dispersed. I plugged my ears with my fingers and ran to look for another safety can. I weaseled my way through and closed the lid, and waited. The waves of noise overcame me and I passed out. 
 
 I woke up with a jerk and hit my head on the top of the can, letting out an execration. I cracked open the lid and saw it was dark outside. When I stumbled out I found there were no lights on in the square. Only the Jumbotron illuminated the streets with its concluding message. The news anchor, now a woman, smiled on screen, “ After one of the most violent days in recent history, the US Supreme Court has unanimously ruled their previous ruling in the case, In re Caffeine, to be wrong in every way. The Caffeine Prohibition is over. To those watching at home, thank you for tuning in and good night. ” I trudged home, exhausted, and saw the bodies around me. I was slightly awed at the human capacity for destruction as I took in the sights of carnage that surrounded my residence, but I was mainly relieved that I wouldn ’ t have to go a morning without my beloved beverage. The thought made me sick.
