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Here is one story retold, albeit with a pithier ending:

From Deathbylightswitch:

Small town= stuck up people

What happened: I live in a small town in Indiana...Hint hint about the small town thing... I am writing a book for further reference... anyways... I was walking with my friend today and he was talking about trying out for american Idol... He said... "Everyone in this town is so annoying they aen't going anywhere, I for one am going to make it as a singer..." "I am going to leave this town to, I am going to be a writer/ director" Sure, whatever... he said

What I said: Think what you want... when Im big you can kiss my ass...

What I SHOULD have said: You haven't even read the manuscript dipshit, and your doubting me...I really doubt american idol needs another gay guy running the show... ((He isn't really gay, he just is really metro and all))

on the stairs

L'esprit d'escalier

The French call it l'esprit d'escalier, "the wit of the staircase," those biting ripostes that are thought of just seconds too late, on the way out of the room-or even, to tell the truth, days later. It's happened to you: you've suddenly thought of just what would put your foe in his or her place, but past the time when the arrow could sting its victim. You've stewed in your own juice ever since, and the chance for singeing repartee is gone forever.

Or is it?

Dorothy Parker or Oscar Wilde may have had the rapier wit to tweak their tormentors on the spot, but for the rest of us, we offer the Internet's only L'esprit d'escalier web site!