Let's say, hypothetically, that you are on your bed, and let's suppose that you are also submissive and breedable. Now, let's say you are a male. Statistically speaking, humans, that are submissive and breedable tend to be femboys, that's a fact (which doesn't about your feelings). Hypothetically under these circumstances, it would be statistically speaking uncontroversial to assume you would be wearing thigh highs (which would boost your breedability factor by about 20%). Now let's assume you are an SJW SOCIALIST LIBTARD, and let's say I was you, would it not be under these circumstances, the only correct course of action for you to take to ABSOLUTELY WRECK AND DESTROY me (in a debate) in bed?Hello, is this Pizza Hut?

Excellent. My name is Ben Shapiro. Conservative thought leader. Prominent white YouTuber. The Muggsy Bogues of the intellectual dark Web. And—look, it’s just a fact—I would like to order some pizza pie. If you are triggered by that request, I do not care. I truly do not.

Now let’s discuss conditions. First, thank you for agreeing to debate me. Typically, in fora such as this, I am met with ad-hominem mudslinging, anything from “You racist creep” or “Is that your real voice?” to raucous schoolyard laughter and threats of the dreaded “toilet swirly.” However, your willingness to engage with me over the phone on the subject of pizza shows an intellectual fortitude and openness to dangerous ideas which reflects highly on your character. Huzzah, good sir. Huzzah.

Second, any pizza I order will be male. None of this “Our pizza identifies as trans-fluid-pan-poly”—no. Pizza is a boy. With a penis. It’s that simple. It’s been true for all of human history, from Plato to Socrates to Mr. Mistoffelees, and any attempt to rewrite the pillars of Western thought will be met with a hearty “Fuh!” by yours truly. And, trust me, that is not a fate you wish to meet.

Now. With regard to my topping preference. I have eaten from your pizzeria in times past, and it must be said: your pepperoni is embarrassingly spicy. Frankly, it boggles the mind. I mean, what kind of drugs are you inhaling over there? Pot?! One bite of that stuff and I had to take a shower. So tread lightly when it comes to spice, my good man. You do not want to see me at my most epic. Like the great white hero of Zack Snyder’s classic film “300,” I will kick you.

Onions, peppers—no, thank you. If I wanted veggies, I’d go to a salad bar. I’m not some sort of vegan, Cory Booker weirdo. And your efforts to Michelle Obama-ize the great American pizza pie are, frankly, hilarious. Though not as funny as the impressively named P’Zone—when I finally figured out that genuinely creative pun, I laughed until I cried and peed. A true Spartan admits defeat, and I must admit that, in this instance, your Hut humor slayed me, Dennis Miller style.

And, with that, you have earned my order. Congratulations. Ahem. Without further ado, I would like your smallest child pizza, no sauce, extra cheese. Hello? Aha. A hang-up. Another triggered lib, bested by logic. Damn it. I’m fucki"Mr. Shapiro, what are your thoughts on women's rights to have an abortion?"

Ben: "WELL, that's a very interesting QUESTION, SIR. Before I get started, did you know that my WIFE is a DOCTOR?"

Reporter: "...Mr. Shapiro, that's- not-"

Ben: "I didn't think so, LEFTIST. Now back to your question- 'should women be allowed to MURDER and SHOOT innocent BABIES and CHILDREN?"

Reporter: "Sir, that's not what my orig-"

Ben: "OBVIOUSLY not. Now according to PragerU UNIVERSITY, there once was a FARMER who had a DOG, and Bingo was his name-o. Do you know how to spell it?"

Reporter: (silence)

Ben: "B-I-N-G-O. And Bingo was his name-o."

(Stares reporter in the eye; has not blinked since the asked question)

"B, I, N G O, B, I, N G O, B, I, N G O, And Bingo was his name-o."

Reporter: (Visibly taken aback) "Mr. Shapiro, this is ridiculo-"

(The conservative crowd begins laughing and shouting and singing with Ben)

All: "And Bingo was his name-o!"

(Ben shouting as the curtains close,) "Another CUCK LEAlright mom, you think that the Lego Death Star is too expensive of a set for my birthday which hypothetically- hypothetically lets take a look at the facts (which don't care about your feelings) in a situation where, hypothetically, you get it for my birthday. So, we take a look at the numbers it's $499.99 but it has 4,016 pieces, and that means it comes down to a price point of about 12.4 cents per piece and that's a fact, that's a fact (that doesn't care about your feelings). And even though that might be seemingly pricey in comparison to other lego sets, lets take a look at the minifigures. We have Han Solo in a Stormtrooper outfit, we have Luke Skywalker also in a Stormtrooper outfit, these are exclusives for the set since 2001. And it's a fact that you can recreate epic scenes- hypothetically, hypothetically, from A New Hope and Return of The Jedi if I had this set and I think the facts add up, that you should buy me this set (regardless of your feelings)Ben Shapiro TRIGGERS and DESTROYES a libtard so hard WITH LOGIC AND FACTS that the libtrads brain IMPLODES and collapses INTO A FUCKING BLACK HOLE and that BLACK HOLE sucks up THE ENTIRE SOLAR SYSTEM and WIPES OUT ALL KNOWN LIFE IN THE UNIVERSE (triggered sjw compilation) (not clickbait)Let's say you've been a bad girl. Let's say, hypothetically, you've been a naughty girl even. Ok, and if you were a naughty girl, you would be my dirty little slut right? Then hypothetically speaking, you would be my little cumslut. Now, let's say you're also daddy's girl.

Now that we have established that you are both a bad girl and daddy's girl, I believe you'd agree with me when I say that you deserve a spanking. Am I not correct? A bad girl deserves a spanking, and as I am daddy, you are my girl, so I am the one who must provide punishmenLets say, hypothetically, that we were not strangers to love, and lets say, you knew the rules and so did i. And if you thought of a full commitment, you wouldnt get this from any other guy, right? Then hypothetically speaking, i just want to tell you how im feeling. Now lets say i gotta make you understand. Now that we've established that im never gonna give you up or let you down. Am i not correct? You would never run around, and desert you. And i, as a balcony, think that i wouldnt make you cry, so i must be the one to never tell a lie, and hurt you

This would mean that, we've known eachother for so long, and logically, your hearts been aching but, youre too shy to say it. which would proceed with both of us knowing whats been going on. Which didnt make sense, we know the game, in a way that we're gonna play it. Yet, if you ask me how im feeling, seeing as you shouldnt say that youre too blind to sNow, lets say, hypothetically, that somebody once told me that the world would proceed to roll me, and made the claim that I was not, the smartest tool in the shed. Which would lead us to look at the facts and see that she was looking kind of dumb, due to the fact that she had placed her finger and her thumb, in the shape of the letter L, located on her forehead.

This would mean that the years would start coming, and logically wont stop coming, that I was, hypothetically, fed to the rules, which would proceed with me hitting the ground running. Which didn’t make sense, to live for fun, in a way that your brain gets smart, yet your head gets dumb, seeing as there’s so much to do, and so much to see, so now I must pose the question, what is wrong with taking the backseat? This is due to the fact that you’ll never know if you don’t go, nor you will shine if you don’t glow.

For you see, you are, at this moment, an All-Star, so get your game on, and proceed to go play, indeed, you’re an All-Star, get the show on, which would entitled you to get paid. That would mean that all that glitters, is indeed gold, and that only shooting stars, can participate in the process of breaking the mold.eet.FTIST DESTROYED! BAZINGA!"ng starving.