Those on the ground, here, not famous, not infamous, the less assimilated, less important, filled with anger, are arrested, continue to be arrested. Glen Wu (aka Glue) couldn't care less about his job. He's returned to Hong Kong to teach English, just to placate his parents. But he shows up hungover to class, barely stays awake, and prefers to spend his time smoking up at Shenzhen Bay until dawn breaks. As he watches the city he loves fall-the protests, the brutal arrests-life continues around him. So he drinks more, picks more fights with his drug dealer friend, and thinks loftier thoughts about colonialism and Frantz Fanon. The very little he does care about: his sister, who deals with Hong Kong's demise by getting engaged to a rich immigration consultant; his on-and-off-again girlfriend who steals things from him; and memories of someone he once met in Canada... When the government tightens its grip, language starts to lose all meaning for Glue, and he's pulled into an unseemly venture, ultimately culminating in an act of violence. Inventive and utterly irresistible, BATSHIT SEVEN is Sheung-King's bold take on Asian identity. It's an ode to a beloved city, an indictment of the cycles of colonialism, and a reminder of the beautiful things left under the hype of commodified living.