Fighting fire with anything other than fire

I encounter shitbirds (actual birds, I apologize for the term). Empathize with me. These people, poor things, just can't wait to splash their shit all over the unwitting.

In the library, with the kids... she (the shitbird) lumbers in my direction, sporting the mindless confidence that defines the species, her face reads: "I'm about to drop a little ethical righteousness on you". She leans in and announces, in a tone that begged my wrath AND loud enough that a few of my students could hear, "you know... you really shouldn't let them use Wikipedia." I resist. My students exchange knowing looks.

"Why do you say that?" I'm thrilled to have nailed the tone I was hoping for — genuine surprise, as if I have no. fucking. idea. what she's about to say. This royally fucks up her game. Poor shitbird thought she was going to have an easy landing... not today.

"Well, it's not reliable..."
"Oh?" my fake genuine surprise has moved to fake genuine concern.
"Anybody can edit those pages." looking vindicated, like she just scored two for a take-down.
"Yeah. I was wondering about that. What is their editing policy?" Again, I'm on a roll. Genuine question? hardly... but my ability to fake-it is ruling the day. The nonsensical blubbering that came next does not lend itself to summation. I don't know what the hell she said, but it was 15 seconds of I-don't-know-what-I'm-talking-about backpedaling.

Not usually this cute

She departs, quietly... as if she didn't just try to tell me about my business — nothing happened, she'll tell herself. But, I assure you, this shitbird will steer clear of my masterful defense in the future.

Be gone, Shitbird!

My teaching time isn't wasted if the kids master the concept I stealthily stress: the burden of proof falls on the shitbird who seeks to control your actions... and "proof" isn't easy to come by. Make em' earn it.