Perhaps an entrepreneur type should organize the biggest after school fight ever. Mask up, both sides, they can riot, anti-riot, loot, protest peacefully, harass, defend, defund, deny, megaphone, bullhorn, microphone, infect, cancel, shame, make signs, burn signs, break glass, spit. No refs for this fenced in brawl, just brawlers. Come one come all, this side start here, that side start there. Behind the school of hard rocks, 3 o'clock.
Drones could hover, filming from incredible angles. Rules are there are no rules. The fence must be tight, prison-like in its ability to contain. This is beyond thunderdome. Perhaps an area equivalent to 70 soccer fields, flat.
Think of provisions, of sanitation, of sleep deprivation. Of mental decay, of hopelessness, of anguish. Slip over to the confession room, pan in tight, see the worry and fear and insecurity in their faces, hear the vacancy. There is no glow. Probably be too depressing to watch, a financial bust, a bad idea.