Sword of Satire?

So, my column came out in The Metro today under the title "Sword of Satire: Cool Kids Bark in the Classroom. " Genius. My teacher informed me a possible disclaimer may be placed atop my piece, but SWORD OF FUCKING SATIRE?! Get out your figurative chainmail and rebut.
The reason for the disclaimer is that some of the students got angry about my last column "Rock Out with you...Um, rock out?", which you can tell by the title is utterly offensive. (You can check it out for yourself on this site.) But sword of satire?
Maybe, whoever's brilliant brainchild this was, felt that because satire is cutting, or biting, maybe, that a sword would work well in the title? I don't know, but they didn't have to place it into my title and add a colon! Now, everyone's gonna think that shit was my original idea. Damn it!
I would never use such a word to describe my satire. Maybe, butter-knife of satire: satire so sharp it will cut you; that is, if you're a stick of warm butter. And even as a stick of butter, the warm part is essential. Without it, you won't even be able to spread the my satire on a piece of bread, digest it, and then release it into the toilet where it sometimes belongs.
This butter-knife of satire may just have something to it. Think of the radio advertisements.

Announcer: Are you hungry?

Voices of a crowd similar to that of the Greek Chorus in the Oresteia: Yes, yes, so very hungry.

Announcer: Well, get ready to fill your belly full of laughs!

Voice of a crowd similar to that of the Greek Chorus in the Oresteia: Laughs, laughs, we all love laughs.

Announcer: Do you like butter? I said, do you like (BLEEP BLEEP) Butteeear! We've got it for ya: satire so smooth you can spread it on toast and actually ingest it.

Voice of a crowd similar to that of the Greek Chorus in the Oresteia: Toast, toast, toast, toast.

Announcer: That's right! The Butter-knife of Satire is here, and he's read- to - spread; just listen:

Me: I think a good comedy name for me would be the King of New Jersey. Honestly, cause if anyone asks I can just blame it on a mistake in editorial: It was supposed to be the King of Jealousy in New Jersey. Get it, cause I'm soooooo jealous. If I were a tub of grape jelly my arch nemesis would be a tub of marshmellow fluff.

Announcer: Oh! That is smooth satire. So all you satire fans better be there, cause this is an event you won't want to miss!

Voice of a crowd similar to that of the Greek Chorus in the Oresteia: Won't want to miss. Won't want to miss.

Announcer: Coming to a page in The Metro...someday soon!

Me: Make a meal of me. Ha, Ha, that kinda means eat me. Ha, Ha.

Well, there you have it. Impressed? Of course not, and neither am I.