Catfights are hot, wot? Can I get a wot, wot?
Rue McLanahan or Bea Arthur?
Are we talking Maude-era Bea Arthur?
Why would we be talking Maude-era Bea Arthur? No. Golden Girls-era.
I don’t guess it makes a difference anyway. Bea’s got the reach, the weight. Bea. No question.
Rue seems like a scrapper, though.
True, but still. Bea, all the way.
Estelle Getty or Betty White?
You mean the actual people, or their characters on Golden Girls? Because if it’s real people, Betty White would stomp the shit out of Estelle Getty. But on the show, Estelle Getty’s character–what’s it? Is her name Ma? Did she have a name?–she would put a savage beat down on Rose. Then like shank her and go through her pockets.
Eleanor Roosevelt or Hilary Clinton?
Damn. Pistols, sabers, or socks full of nickels?
Bare knuckles. But no rules. Anything goes.
They’d kill each other. Literally. But Hilary would die first. Massive skull injuries. Eleanor would bleed out after, but on the inside. Internal hemorrhages.
Marilyn Manson or Lady Gaga?
Curveball. But not a contest. Gaga.
Yosemite Sam or Woody Woodpecker?
They’re from different pantheons. That’s not really a valid question.
They’re both cartoons.
Okay, fine. Yosemite Sam is the foil. Woody Woodpecker is the wisecracking trickster-type. So Woody Woodpecker. But I want to go on record as saying that’s a stupid fucking question.
Noted. So, Stephen Hawking or Geordi LaForge?
What?
Hawking or Geordi?
Do you mean Lavar Burton…
No. The dude with the visor on Star Trek: Next Generation.
Versus Stephen Hawking, celebrated theoretical physicist?
It’s tough, right? Because he’s got that mind control thing–those psyonic powers–but Geordi can shoot lasers out of his eyes. Anybody’s game, really.
That’s it. No more. You’re fucking with my high.
