The hipster art gallery owner/dj was paralyzed with fear. He was cornered. "Your mmmmussic sssuuckssss." said the figure looming over him. There were no sycophants to protect his ego. "Yyyou pretend to be enlightened, but you're just pretentioussss." The hipster screamed "No!!! *cries* my art is real!!! I'm, I'm real!! I, I have life experiences!!! I, I went to Boca Raton!!! I'm worldly, and, and I'm wise- NOT LIKE YOU YOU COULD NEVER GET ME!!!"

The figure smirked. And handed the hipster a note. On it was written "defense by works, defense by intrinsic value, defense by experience, defense by status." then waited for him to read it. The hipster was confused, he didn't understand. The figure handed the hipster a photo, the hipster recoiled. It was a medical photo of a fully healed hand amputation. The figure pointed at the photo, robotic and calm, then slowly pointed at the hipster. The message was clear. Time went on and eventually the hipster healed and closed down his art gallery which was just a front for his sex pestism. He had to relearn how to do a lot of things with one hand, he finally stopped taking extravagant trips and spending time and money on thots. He focused on what mattered in life, producing quality work for no reason other than the joy of making it, not for fame, or money, or sex, but for the purity of the work. The police never did find the figure from that day, and the hipster wonders, while he gently rubs his smooth shaven face (no more douche bag facial hair either) if the figure intended to help teach him something, or if it was a meaningless attack, he looks at his new life, a life of humility and moderation, and he smiles...it doesn't matter.