On Wednesday, Samer Kalaf typed what may well be his last words.

The “esteemed” Deadspin “sports” “blogger” was on a mission: He wanted to let the world know that he was ready to kick the shit out of some teenagers. A worthy cause, sure, but he picked the wrong teen.

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A wannabe bully evidently suppressing his memories of getting swirlied and wedgied and TP’d and whatnot during his own sad, lonely teenage years, Samer turned his pent-up anger towards the honorees on TIME’s 30 Most Influential Teens list. I was one of the honorees, and Samer had some choice words for me. Namely, “Here’s a scoop for ya, William: I’m going to whoop you.”

Seriously, bro? Picking on teenagers? What if we replaced the word “teens” with “overpaid sports bloggers” or “people who look like their heads were subject to an industrial rolling pin” each time it was mentioned in the article? Would it still be funny? Would it, Samer? I’m gonna go ahead and say no.

I get that his post was most likely, as my older and more enlightened peers would call it, “satire.” But now I’m gonna kick his ass anyway. I’m going to use my influence to put him in the hospital, or the ground.

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Now, I wouldn’t start a fight without knowing my competition first. Let’s size up my chosen Gawker Media word-monkey.

Please. I could handily defeat Samer in any battle of my choosing, be it a fistfight or a fashion show. It would be easy. I could do it with my eyes closed. Honestly, I might feel bad, but that won’t stop me from aggregating my fists onto his face.

In my 17 years on this planet, I’ve never been in a fight. But still, I knew taking this punk down would be easy. But I want to be confident, so I took the liberty of doing some more research on my foe. Which is to say, I kept scrolling.

Please. Nobody wearing that shirt has ever beaten up anybody.

Looking good, Samer! Are you absolutely sure you are not, yourself, still a teenager? Are you possibly a 17-year-old working undercover as a journalist, like a reverse Never Been Kissed-type situation?

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By the way, one of your Gawker Media “colleagues” assured me that I would “win the fight.” Have fun knowing that you work in an office full of people actively wishing that a teenager would show up and beat you over the head with your MacBook. You’re the most embarrassing thing about your company that isn’t named “Kinja.” I sure hope you backed up all your important “sportswriting,” because your computer is going out the window, and you’re going out after it. Deadspin? More like dead meat.

This is it, Samer. You’re finished. It’s over. I hereby challenge you to a fight, anywhere, anytime. We can do it for charity; hell, you can use all the proceeds to pay off your hospital bills. Pick a date. Any date! And I will drive my Subaru Outback to the Big Apple for the sole purpose of kicking your ass, and then maybe get one of your colleagues to buy me a beer afterward. After all, I’m only a teen.


William Turton is a freelance journalist covering politics and hackers. You can find his work at The Daily Dot.

Lead photo by AP.