Ladies and gentlemen, I think it's time to revive an ancient tradition we seem to have long forgotten.
They confiscated the altar, Droz.
No, I'm not talking about human sacrifice, Ceel. I'm talking about something we used to do every Saturday night as a matter of principle. Here's a hint. Legions of hand-stamped meatheads... in coed naked lacrosse T-shirts... power-chugging watered-down Meisterchau... regurgitating on the glue-matted floors.
Kiln-like temperatures, fights with townies... lines of drunken people waiting for the bathroom.