They opened by asking my opinion of pornography, then tried to segue into longevity. I mentioned consent and fair treatment of the participants and not imposing it on anyone who is uninterested, and not exploiting disadvantaged people or engaging in unwanted objectification.
"Can we read you what the Bible has to say about pornography?"
"I hear The Song of Solomon is pretty hot."
He visibly deflated.
"Why do you think trees and tortoises live so much longer than we do?"
"They move a lot fucking slower, for one thing."
I made sure they got a good look at my tattoo when I checked my mailbox, because, while I'm capable of being nice, I'm still not *that* nice.
I'd feel bad about being an informed opponent, but it means I can give them a graceful out. I wasn't always this nice. (Storytime!)
Back when I lived in East Bumblefuck, Pennsyltucky, I worked 2nd shift (3p-midnight or 5p-2a), which means I stayed up until 4a or so. 8a-9a was the middle of the night for me, so I took very poorly to being woken up by someone banging on my door at that hour.
"Do you think God protects the rain forests?" they asked me.
I pointedly looked around at the MILES AND MILES OF NEARLY UNBROKEN FOREST IN EVERY DIRECTION (see link).
"Are those pamphlets printed on recycled paper? Get the fuck off my porch."
 I lived at the end of the first spur off the southwest-running road, right after it makes that 90 degree left to the southeast. That road runs essentially straight up a mountain, and was, at the turn of the century, still unpaved dirt, mud, and gravel from approximately 100 yards from Route 44 at its northern end. When I described my location as "It's not the middle of nowhere, but you can see it from here," I wasn't actually exaggerating that much.