A Colorful Interrogation

I was being hounded. Surrounded. 

Beset by all sides, by three very eager, very bright colors, shuffling closer and closer, as the mischievous looks on their faces grew wider and wider. 

The one in the middle stomped hard on her blue boots, always the first one to get engaged, the first to have a say, "Smell that, See that?" she said, wagging a reprimanding finger. "Conduct unbecoming, a scandal in the making! What's the verdict, ladies?" 

"No doubt about it," red stated, her whisper bouncing across the white walls.

"Guilty as charged!" green exploded, like a bomb dressed in makeup and heels, and at that point, I probably went momentarily deaf too. 

My eyes drifted slowly from one end of the color spectrum to the other. 

See, I've never been jumped in an empty washroom before, but I definitely don't think muggers were supposed to look like young, youthful girls... let alone also police officers.