Once upon a time, there was a self-described "airport bum," a kinda dorky/nerdy guy in his '50s who would fly his Cessna (I forget what flavor) on weekends and then lounge around the FBO lobby in his trademark beige JC Penney's coveralls, making what we now call "dad jokes" and drinking cup after cup of free coffee. He was known for heckling and interrogating unsuspecting student pilots, peppering them with arcane trivia as a way of displaying his superior aviation knowledge. You know the guy. One of his favorite stunts went like this:
Hey, junior birdman, what's better: high-wing or low-wing?
If the hapless victim chose low-wing, he was ready with a chuckle and a smirk: "Oh yeah? Ever see a low-wing bird?" But if the student chose high-wing, he'd come back with: "Ha! Well, didja ever see a high-wing fighter?" I guess his idea of a fighter was limited to Spitfires and P-51s, and I still remember how, on one occasion, his smug smirk rearranged itself into a grimace when his intended prey fired back with "How about the Fokker D VIII? But you're probably more familiar with the F-15, or if you're a Navy fan there's the F-8 and F-14 and, well, there's the Mig-25, and there must be others but I gotta go."*
It could be argued that some of those were actually configured with shoulder-mounted wings, but the challenger had nonetheless landed a haymaker and the champ was left sagging against the ropes dazed and confused.
*Reconstructed from fragments of memory; or in other words, based on a true story. Probably.