Inside the White House, President Barack Obama gathered with young students to celebrate the wonderful possibilities of scientific discovery. The president's inner nerd came out as he spoke about experimentation and inquisitiveness. His annual science fair -- a time to launch marshmallows from makeshift cannons and blow bubbles from wands made with 3D printers -- is as much a showcase of youthful brain power as it is an incentive for proud geeks to enter the field.

On the opposite end of Pennsylvania Avenue, grown-up scientists put on an exhibit of their own, this one illustrating just how unwelcoming that field can be when less sympathetic politicians enter the mix.

In the Russell Senate Office building, a veritable all-star lineup of maligned researchers gathered. Their work would be familiar to anyone who has read the "wastebook" put together by Sen. Jeff Flake (R-Ariz.) or has watched Rep. Lamar Smith (R-Texas) lead a House Science Committee hearing: In the back corner was that guy who watched shrimp run on treadmills; off to the side was the woman who pondered why fat girls can't get dates; in the middle of the room was the person who studied cows in China; near the bar was the man who sent text messages to drunk people; and in the back was the scientist who started a fight club for shrimp (it's always those damn shrimp!).

These researchers had come to Capitol Hill to make the case that their congressional tormentors had gotten their work profoundly wrong. Far from being taxpayer-funded jesters in the world of science, they were doing work of merit and promise. And while they had the resumes and wherewithal to withstand the scrutiny, their worry was that future scientists -- the ones hanging out with Obama -- would look at the crucible and decide to stay far, far away.

"I am rock solid about my research. I know it is very good," said Sheila Patek, an associate professor of biology at Duke University who led the so-called Fight Club-for-shrimp study. "But this wastebook targeted a short paper that was the first paper in my young graduate student's career. ... He is from a long line of firefighters. His father, his uncle, his grandfather. There aren't any other scientists in his family. They are very proud of him. He is extremely civic-minded. I don't think I've had anyone in my lab like that. And this has been crushing for him."

Speaking with deliberate care for each word, Patek couldn't hide how affected she has been by this episode.

"I tell him this is not personal. This is a game. He knows his work is great. It was published in a great journal, and we worked for years to get that science right. But when you're that young and you're getting started and you are not sure if you want to do this hardcore competitive game that kind of thing is tough," she said. "And he actually wrote me a letter earlier this week. He couldn't say it to me in person. And he wrote about how he was really sorry that his work had brought this attention on the lab."

Contrary to what Flake said in his book, Patek and her graduate student didn't set up a crustacean-themed Fight Club. Nor did the federal government give her $700,000 for that purpose. That sum was for all of her studies.

The focus of the infamous study is actually quite in symmetry with Republican priorities. Patek and her team are looking into the ability of mantis shrimp to generate incredible force without the assistance of outside factors. They're trying to answer questions like: How it is that a shrimp's toothpick-sized hammer can break snail shells in water when humans have to use a larger hammer to do the same in air? A discovery could eventually lead to dramatic changes in human-engineered defense systems. The research already has sparked changes in engineered materials designed to resist impact fracture.

"It is a beautiful and elegant study," Patek said.