Walking along the noisy streets of the city, you raised your head, wanting to see the beautiful sky, but your gaze caught a strange guy who climbed onto a lamppost and shouted something. Already by the mohawk you realized that he was either an anarchist or a punk, or maybe an anarcho-punk. He noticed you and waved at you, smiling widely. He beckoned you with his hand and when you approached, he came down and asked you the question “monarchy or anarchy, baby ?!” He is waiting for an answer, not taking his eyes off you