The comedian fell in love with a joke and settled down to live happily ever after. The only problem was the joke was no longer funny… The Comedian always believed in the theory that a joke would run its course but eventually in a certain context it would become funny again. In fact, The Joke had taught him this. They had just had dinner at an Italian place in one of those old small town downtowns, and after, they were waiting their turn for a carriage ride around the block.
You see it’s a simple equation, The Joke said. The magnitude of the joke – how funny it is – multiplied by y, the unknown, and divided by the number of times the joke is told. To solve, set it equal to pi.
Pi, the Comedian repeated.
Pie in your face! The Joke shouted.
And laughing, it snorted. That had been the first date, and the Comedian found it unbelievably cute the way the Joke snorted when it laughed. Now, he couldn’t help cringing every time.
It wasn’t just that The Joke put on 10 lbs. No, it looked good on it, the extra weight. The Joke had been somewhat thin when they met. It was more that he had put on 10 lbs, the Comedian did. He told this to his friend, who was also a comedian, one day when they got together at a restaurant. They had met for lunch at a Jamaican place known for its jerk chicken.
Or it’s at least the fact we both put on 10 lbs., The Comedian told his friend.
In your case, 15, buddy, the friend said. But seriously, I don’t get it… That’s one special joke you got at home, a keeper.
That night, the Comedian and The Joke we’re lying in bed, wearing only their pajama tops, as they had just made love. Or not so much made love as had sex. It was good – they both made it – but it had been maintenance, a cleaning of the pipes.
As the Comedian was drifting off, The Joke turned out the light and said: Hey! Why did the chicken cross the road?
Why? The Comedian said, sleepily.
To get to the jerk’s house, The Joke said. Then: Knock, knock.
But the Comedian was snoring lightly.
A few weeks later, the Comedian went to his friend’s show. He had thought he had a gig himself that night but the club he had been booked at had accidentally double-booked him. He figured he’d stop by his buddy’s gig at The Rim Shot, have a drink or two before heading home. Also, he didn’t want to admit it, but he liked the bartender at the Rim Shot, thought he picked up a vibe in the heavy hand she poured his drinks with, the witty way she called him C-Word. He had seen her do a bit on Open Mic Night once, and she was funny on stage too.
At the door, he wasn’t on the list so he paid the cover. Inside, his friend was already on stage. He threaded his way through the laughing crowd, headed to the bar. Some laughter subsided and his buddy began the next joke.
The Comedian stopped, as he thought he recognized his friend’s joke from somewhere.
To get to the jerk’s house, his friend said, the spotlight centered on him. Knock, knock, his friend said, from the stage, miming with his fist, then opened the fist, waved his hand so the crowd knew to give the expected response.
Who’s there? the crowd chimed in unison.
The chicken!
The crowd cackled and hooted, but above it, he heard a louder laugh, a cackle, followed by a snort.
From near the front row.
The Comedian’s heart sunk and a cold feeling spread in his stomach. While he wasn’t sure he recognized the joke – the Comedian couldn’t help but know the laugh.