The tranquil setting of Sunny Hills Retirement Home was disrupted last Tuesday when two seasoned war veterans, Joe "Old Glory" Thompson and Frank "The Bulldog" Anderson, engaged in a heated debate that could only be described as a "Woke-Off."
The showdown began over a game of shuffleboard when Joe nonchalantly remarked, "You know, back in my day, we called women born with a penis a man."
Frank, never one to back down from a challenge, retorted, "Oh yeah? Well, back in my day, beauty contestants didn't have hairier legs than the contestants in a lumberjack competition!"
Joe squinted, the gleam of battle in his eyes. "That's nothing, Bulldog. In my time, if a man wanted to be called a woman, he had to do more than just change his Facebook profile."
Frank chuckled, his dentures nearly popping out. "Old Glory, you've got it easy! When I was a young lad, if you wanted to change your gender, you had to fill out paperwork in triplicate, walk uphill both ways, and get a note from your grandmother. And she had to notarize it!"
A crowd had gathered by now, the other residents eagerly listening in, popcorn in hand. Joe raised his cane for emphasis. "You think that's tough? We had real men back then. If you wanted to be part of a beauty contest, you had to shave every inch of your body, and I mean EVERY inch. Nowadays, they let people waltz in with beards thicker than my platoon sergeant."
Frank wasn't to be outdone. "Well, let me tell you, Joe. Back in my day, if you wanted to use a bathroom, you didn't need a DNA test, a court order, and a psychic medium to figure out which one was right for you!"
The audience was in stitches, but Joe had one final card to play. "You know, Frank, back in my day, a man couldn't get pregnant, and real women didn't have to go around saying they identified as women. They just were!"
Frank nodded vigorously. "You got that right, Joe. And another thing, I can't use special pronouns for the same reason I won't talk to a schizophrenic's invisible friend. It's just not real to me!"
The laughter echoed through the halls, reverberating like the memories of battles long past. As the two old warriors continued their banter, it was clear that the real victor was the spirit of camaraderie and the shared recognition of a world gone amusingly mad.
Sunny Hills might be a place for quiet retirement, but on this day, it was the battleground for the ultimate Woke Wars. And as the residents shuffled off to their evening activities, they couldn't help but chuckle at the absurdity of it all, thankful for the timeless humor that still united them, even in an ever-changing world.
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