Instalment Five

Pun was not a funny person. He tried, he tried oh so very hard. All day long he endeavoured to inject humour into his conversations. If he said something he thought was funny he would say, “That joke was intended.” Sometimes he would say something that he only then realised might be funny, so he would say, “That joke was not intended.” Only they were not jokes and they were not funny, they were merely homonyms.

One fateful day, despite pleadings from his friends and co-workers, Pun decided to try out his comic stylings at an open-mic night. There were many other first timers on the bill that evening: Parody, Sarcasm, Impersonation and a prop comic.

Emcee was one of those serviceable, journeymen comics who gets a few laughs and keeps the evening moving. The audience was enthusiastic and drunk, he warmed them up to perfection but there was nothing he could have done to save this night.

One after another, each act bombed. Parody wasn’t topical, Sarcasm was just angry and Impersonation’s act was poorly executed. But Pun, the audience all agreed, had far and away demonstrated the lowest form of humor. Well, apart from the prop-comic.