Spork Champ

You accept the duel and arrive at 3 am armed with a neon pack of plastic sporks and righteous calm. Under the flicker of the drive thru menu you parry and jab like a terrible yet determined knight until he collapses in a puddle of defeat and regret. You leave triumphant with a handful of melted sauce packets and a new legend to whisper about at parties. Would you like to draw another card?