[ WP ] A man sits in a coffee shop , anxiously awaiting something . The door opens , and in walks ...

... a neckbeard. The coffeeshop goes silent as the crowd puts down their drinks and gapes at the newcomer. The man gives the neckbeard the coldest stare I ever saw. The neckbeard's beady eyes squint in a goofy, socially awkward glare that nearly borders on menacing. The crowd knows what's about to happen, though most of us had only heard about it through back alley rumors and shady internet forums. Ladies and gentlemen, take your seats, the match is almost under way. A Reddit circlejerk-off has come to town. 
 
 The neckbeard, predictably dressed in one of those rayon shirts with the flames on it along with some off putting cargo shorts, lurks up towards the table the man is sitting at. Like Moses parting the Red Sea, the cafe goers silently move out of his way as he staggers forward. The neckbeard's mass takes a seat across from the man, and folds his hands on the table. They are looking at one another, they are not happy. I should mention that everyone in the coffeeshop is on their feet, some are even standing on chairs and pointing. The barista who majored in art history with no job prospects and $ 500,000 in debt lurches forward to act as scorekeeper, planting herself in the table just across from the two combatants. 
 
 `` Bill Nye is right, Christians are wrong,'' said the neckbeard, opening with what many in the crowd consider a satisfactorily strong response. Everyone peers at the man with bated breath, awaiting a response to outdo the neckbeard. 
 
 `` Justin Bieber really kind of deserves to die,'' answers the man, as the crowd looks over to the stuck up barista for judgement. 
 
 `` 3 Sagans to Team Neckbeard,'' says the barista as the man pounds the table in exasperation. The neckbeard confidently smiles one of those grins that make you want to hit someone while readjusting his fedora. Tradition dictated that the man go next as he was losing, and he strained for as the best opener against the neckbeard. 
 
 `` Edward Snowden is a goddamn hero,'' speaketh the man. 
 
 `` Neil deGrasse Tyson, some people want to watch the world learn,'' retorts the neckbeard. The crowd groans, as that was a stale and obvious jerk, and the barista looks pissed. 
 
 `` 2 Sagans to the man, Team Neckbeard is put in the friendzone for one round,'' announces the barista. The neckbeard grimaces, his fragile pride hurts. Some of the people in the crowd consulted their cell phones, but many knew what the rare ruling meant. The neckbeard had angered the female of the group and his opponent would be given a free pass with points next round. 
 
 The man smiled and said, `` White Southern Christians are literally Hitler.'' The crowd went nuts, stamping their feet and hooting like a group of aggressive, male howler monkeys. 
 
 `` Three Sagans to the man and the neckbeard is removed from the friendzone. The score stands at 5-3 with the man ahead of the champion neckbeard. The next round shall determine the winner,'' proclaimed the barista. The crowd was really raving, standing close to the two circlejerkers and pounding the tables with excitement. 
 
 The neckbeard was obviously sensing a possible upset. Sweat had begun to dot his gross pimply forehead and even soaked through his dorky fedora. In a weak, quaking voice he said, `` You know, America really kind of sucks, I wish it were more like glorious S [ weed ] en,'' and the crowd gasped in awe of the bravery of the young overweight neckbeard. How could the man overcome such a valiant jerk. 
 
 `` Jennifer. Lawrence,'' spake the man. A quiet settled over the coffee shop. Then, a woman feinted in the back of the crowd and the place went full bedlam. A glorious victory for the man. The snotty barista could n't even be heard over the din, as village elders went to the back of the coffee shop to dust off the pitchforks that had been waiting unused for so long. The village was finally chasing out its gross neckbeard. 
 
 Fin
