There was a knock on the door. It was the KGB; or the FBI; or the MI5; or the CCCPC; or the whatever. It didn’t really matter who, they were all the same, and doing the rounds.
Winnie had foolishly turned on her Christmas tree lights. Didn’t she know there was a power shortage? People were trying to charge their electric cars. The local steel mill was trying to run on a windmill. It was almost as bad as Mrs. Higginbotham of 95 Snodgrass Avenue who had selfishly plugged in her electric heater. Fortunately she had died of the cold.
Winnie explained that her small string of Christmas lights were solar. It was dismissed as a lie. Who could light up solar Christmas tree lights in this weather? Winnie was handcuffed and taken away. When solitary confinement didn’t budge her into submission she was taken out and electrocuted.