Setting up a lemonade stand sounds like a fun way to make some money. But there’s a lot more involved than squeezing lemons and adding sugar!

Back in the summer of 2005, two bored boys named Dominic Serino and Ryan Decker from Salem, Massachusetts, came up with a smart plan to make some summer bucks. They decided to set up a lemonade stand in a popular spot called the Common. It was an open public space in the center of town where community events, gatherings, and recreational activities often took place. They thought it was the perfect location because it was right in the middle of everything.

To make things even better, there was a sports event being held nearby. The boys realized that the fans who were going to watch the game might get thirsty on their way in or out. So they saw an opportunity to sell their refreshing lemonade to those thirsty fans and make some extra cash. It was a smart move to take advantage of the crowd, and make their lemonade stand a big success.

Unfortunately for them, someone had a problem — a big problem — with their little business enterprise. A vendor named Jarrod Clowery was selling sausages from a nearby street cart, and felt that the boys (who were 9 and 11, by the way) were hurting his business with their 50-cents-a-cup lemonade-mix lemonade that their signs proclaimed to be “the best in town.” He called the police. Clowery’s claim? The boys didn’t have a proper city vending license to sell their lemonade. (The license costs $2,200.)

When Dan Mazola, a friendly local policeman, arrived at the scene, he quickly realized who the “perpetrators” (i.e., the so-called lawbreakers) were. He called his boss right away to explain what was happening. “I called the sergeant down to the scene because I didn’t feel like kicking these two kids out, and I asked him about the situation, and he said they needed a vendor’s license,” he told a newspaper after the incident.

With a heart full of regret for what he had to do, Mazola tried to find other solutions for the boys and their lemonade stand, such as having the boys move their stand away from Mr. Sausage. But the sergeant said there was nothing he could do: The law was the law.

Mazola was furious. “It’s two little kids selling lemonade,” Mazola said. “If I get a call like that tomorrow, I’ll let someone else take it.” But he did his duty, apologetically telling the kids to pack up and take down their plywood stand….

When locals witnessed the police closing the stand, and word spread about what happened, things turned… sour (yep, pun intended). People told the sausage vendor he was wrong, unfair, mean, and worse, and many refused to patronize his business. The public outcry made the news and grew dramatically.