Frankie stood in front of the bathroom mirror, his pockmarked face, his greasy hair, and he thought "Damn, those ladies." 

Splashing on that aftershave, he knew he would be the one to contend with them all. Some might argue they had brains, or brawn. But here he was with both. Not to mention he smelled damn good. He had them ladies jumping. 

He stood on the streets, hands up, raised waiting for praise, accolades, glory. And then it came. Slowly at first, the hush of the crowd unsure if they would stand for this. The louder boisterous person who had a beer too many, ready to rally amongst the common man, and then finally, the person who had been so beaten down that a  punch in the face felt like a pat on the ass, given the conversation. 

So here stood a man, not willing to put up with your biased bullshit and ready to see what you had to say regarding someone unaffiliated with your shit storm, and your way of living. are you for the people or not. My theory is you're all for what is going to tickle your taint, but please, tell me more.