You tell all these mugs to listen up. This gang is now under new management.
The surly mob of puppet people look you up and down, glance at your CUESTAFF, and shrug. Yep, you're the new boss, they appear to tacitly confirm.
Ms. Paint, you say. There's a vacancy in the gang's eight-spot. You got anything more suitable to wear?
She claps her hands and says oh yes! She has just the dress for the occasion. She says brb.