Standup comedy is an exciting experience: getting up in front of a crowd of people with nothing but your wits and a couple of hackneyed jokes about the difference between guys and gals. You have to be bold, you have to be confident, you have to be willing to stand, slowly walk around and then stand again. Ideally you need to be funny as well, but for the most part it’s just a lot of slowly wheeling around a lit stage. I would know, because I can imagine what it’s like to be a standup comic. However, seeing as these are skills I do not have, and don’t care to cultivate, I’m going to. just lay down my standup routine for you as I imagine it acting out in my head.
Scene: A comedy club. If you’ve never been to one, think an unfinished basement with a spotlight and tables
Hey everybody how’s everybody doing tonight!? *audience applauds* Did you all have fun this Homecoming *audience cheers!* Y’know there’s a funny kind of turning point in every night out where you realise you’re the last person you know at the bar. I like to call the 1am that happens on every night out, a point where you kind of revert from being an adult out with your friends to enjoy a well earned respite from the day’s toils to just a toddler…*chuckles* just a confused toddler who’s lost his mum and is just hopelessly waddling through a crowd looking for someone you know. You’ll show up in the background of photos with this weird look on your face like you’re kind of frightened by the idea… of camera flashes? *laughs* You wind up ordering drinks at the bar that you don’t want because you need something to do with your hands. You keep doing laps around the dancefloor, trying to look casual. But it’s really not. *guffaws, I’m killing it* You keep passing this same creepy guy, I’m imagining a bald guy who’s wearing a beret because he thinks it makes him look intimidating. This girl knows what I’m talking about *that girl blushes, her beret-wearing boyfriend looks pissed, I feel sexually threatening like the BAMF that I am* All the while hoping you’ll spot someone, really anyone you know just because you don’t want to walk home by yourself like someone who got dumped on prom night. There are times where I hope I’ll run into my worst enemy just so I can hate him as something to do. And I do have a worst enemy in my life *killer segue, everyone stays hooked* His name’s Steve, he fixes my computer. He does a good job, but he phoned me once He doesn’t know he’s my worst enemy… but I do. I think there are a lot of perks to having a worst enemy. One: it makes you the hero, if only by default. And if movies have taught me anything that gives me a sidekick, ironically often in the form of a creepy bald dude with a beret *Unreal callback joke audience in tears, getting some serious cuteye from boyfriend* OK as an aside what is it with berets, I mean they’re such an odd piece of headgear. The only people who wear them are stupid *audience bursts into tears, everyone’s rolling in the aisles, man in beret gets up and charges towards the stage* *I adopt a karate stance and beckon him forward* *he climbs onto the stage* *we size each other up* *audience laughs* * he makes a move* *I knock him out with one jump kick* *He wasn’t expecting it due to it being illegal under tournament rules* *audience guffaws* Thanks everybody, drive safe and have a good night! *uproarious applause* *crowd quiets*
Hi there I’m Sam Codrington, the MC for this open mic night, which we will never have again due to the inevitable lawsuit from the producers of the Karate Kid, and I’m going to ask that you all leave while we get the paramedics here to help this poor man. While that kick was technically illegal under tournament rules I’m going to allow the knockout because that was awesome. Alright well there’s really nothing more to read after something this absurd so I invite you to explore the rest of the paper! Cha Gheill!