voctorious anti-fems. But the anti-fems soon found that their victory was hollow. Like Achilles wept after slaying the Amazon Queen, so the anti-fems wept once the feminists left the field of battle. Cause they missed them. It is as simple as that. For a long time, it has been an open secret that anti-feminists do not actually like the company of fellow anti-fems. The presence of feminists stimulates them. They enjoy teasing them, needling them, making fun of them. What they do not enjoy is performing in front of an empty theatre or a theatre filled with like-minded childish anti-fems. No, only adult, mature, rational, intelligent, well-spoken feminists get their juices flowing. “Oh, how bitter and sad is this empty victory. Did we really win?” ask the confused, muddle-headed anti-fems. “Oh, never did a victory feel more like a defeat,” they all wail in unison, as they beg and plead for the feminists of yore to come back and engage them once again in discussion and debate.