One time, we were doing a show in Chiapas, Mexico, during the Zapatista wars way off the road, up high in the mountains. In the middle of the show, this drunk starts screaming and goes wandering off. Then later he comes back and he's swinging a machete, goes to the middle of the crowd and comes right into our show. And we just backed away, and then he goes back out through the crowd again, and the crowd just parted like the Red Sea for him twice. He goes off, and about half the audience follows him, and the other half stays watching us, and then the people drift back to us. We just sat down on our suitcases, had a drink of water, said, "OK, you guys want to restart?" By the time we finished the show, they had him corralled into a little tiny village cell.