Hippies, typically filthy, unwashed, misguided and now trans blasphemous parodies of men and women. Yes indeed, but is there hope for these misguided denizens of Austin, San Francisco and Portland? Perhaps, and here at the Compound we've worked with Beans to suggest a template.
Lure them to a pop festival, a "freak fayre" if you like. Secure the perimeter, set up in force with tents, safari rifles and all of that. Next step? Drop the boom, I won't go into detail. And then?
Issue the wretched hippies with fatigues and boots, shave their hair, start remedial PT, get that drill going (they don't get real rifles at this point, obvs), issue ironing boards and starch. And carry on, all conducted by LL, the RHSM (Regimental Horse Sergeant Major) who's taken over the SOUND STAGE, with its mighty amplification.
Hear it, punters, "By the left... QUICK MARCH!" And watch them move like clockwork across the desert expanse. Think yourselves lucky, hippies. And what can we say, problem? Solution. Yes, there is hope.
Peace And Unity,
LSP
