John tracked their interactions and gauged the hierarchy. A redhead with no shirt and a flashbang sunburn ordered the youngest ones around. They worked in shifts now.
In fact, my experience watching Popeye is what this film most reminded me of: the feeling of alarm, then dismay, and then the slow death of acceptance.
The veteran killed the karaoke machine, just yanked the plug out the back and shoved the whole unit over, which was outrageous and way better than calling the cops. For three whole seconds, I felt like a winner.