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Fucking fuckers

• me:   (out shopping, looking all fly with my Marvel comics tote bag featuring several characters)
• dude:   nice bag.
• me:   thanks. (keeps on shopping)
• dude:   do you even know who all those characters are?
• me:   uh... yeah?
• dude:   ok then, who's that guy? (points at a character on the bag)
• me:  
• me:   wait, are you asking me to prove that I'm enough of a fan enough to carry this bag?
• dude:   (smirks) that's what I thought. He's called the Silver Surfer. I bet you don't even know his real name.
• me:   does it matter? (starts to edge away before I start punching throats)
• dude:   psh, you're not a real fan.
• me:  
• me:   (slowly unsheathing my Wolverine claws)
• me:   how many pairs of chromosomes do humans contain in their cells?
• dude:   uh... what?
• me:   explain the function of cellular mitosis?
• dude:  
• me:   what is the purpose of myelin sheath with regards to the formation of new neural pathways?
• dude:   what are you even talking about?
• me:   oh, well it seemed that you were implying that if I don't know as much about the Marvel universe as you do, then I can't possibly be considered a real fan. This is me implying that because you don't know as much about the human body as I do, you can't possibly be considered a real human being.
• dude:  
• dude:  
• dude:  
• dude:   Um, I... wow. You're right. Have a nice day. (starts to shuffle away)
• me:   his name is Norrin Radd.
• dude:   (looks extremely embarrassed)