(gender) pirate/ninja
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Anais thought everything was going well, until he saw a pirate swaggering down the sidewalk, down from Valencia street.
He hated pirates.
You could tell he was a pirate because of all the intellectual property hanging off of him. Everything about him was an illegal copy; he wouldn't be caught dead using unpirated software, dvds, music, or genetically modified organisms. His eighth-generation black tshirt was grainy and weirdly colored, and sometimes your view of his gender was interrupted when somebody from the front row got up to go to the bathroom.
He had his name legally changed to the lines of code needed to crack a DVD, and insisted everyone call him by his full name. Most people just called him the gender pirate.
The pirate laughed when he heard that people like him were destroying capitalism, the economy and Western civilization itself. He made a point of leaving the FBI warnings on his DVDs just to mock the state. The only real theft was what the multinational corporations did; patenting organisms from rainforests with no payment to the indigenous inhabitants; patenting styles invented by runaway teenagers and then suing them for copyright violation; charging restaurants that let people sing happy birthday; sneaking into tranny nightclubs and patenting the genetic code for all the hip new genders.
The gender pirate got really steamed at cultural appropriation. That was the real theft - people in power stealing the cultures, genders, and practices of the disenfranchised. He snuck into a major corporate boardroom once, and there he saw rich pasty white males, all in dreadlocks, wearing kimonos and beatboxing Elvis songs. Naturally, he filmed the whole thing and distributed it on the internet. They tried to sue him for infringement of copyright, but he was long gone, man. Long gone.