Humor is two faced

HUMOR IS TWO FACED

Written by Alberto Juarez

JESSE: “Hey Andy, could you pass me the black pepper? I’m feeling particularly spicy.”

ANDY: “Huh? But it’s closer to you than it is to me. You have long arms Jesse. Use them.”

JESSE: “I asked you if you could pass the pepper, not how long my arms are. Don’t talk down to me with… you and your big bones. You know what? Actually, go ahead, gesture at me with your sausage fingers.”

ANDY: “You’re just being mean now. I’m not big boned. I’m self-conscious about that.”

JESSE: “No, no no no Andy. I wasn’t ever serious. God, some things just go over your head man. You know I’m never serious.”

ANDY: “You sure? How ‘bout the other day when you said I was ‘slow’? Or when you said my hairline has the shape of a dumbbell? That doesn’t even make sense! I’ve been ignoring this for a little too long.”

JESSE: “Heh. Well, you do have a big head…

ANDY: “...smart-ass.”

JESSE: “Alright enough of that, I’ll just get the pepper myself. With me and my long arms. Mmm, this flavors my carne asada quite well! Straight from the results of child labor! I can just taste the tiny child working at a sweatshop. Or whatever people do to get pepper.

ANDY: “Hold up now bucko now what was that? You are fuckin’ ridiculous you know.”

JESSE: “Bucko? What do you mean bucko? I have not heard that word since I was a young man ‘bucko’ in the sixties. Bucko. You sound like a wanna-be cowboy. You see, now that’s ridiculous.”

ANDY: “Ha ha. Now I can’t shake the idea of a cowboy in the sixties asking for pepper from, like, a stranger in a saloon. I bet where his revolver should be is a pepper shaker shaped like a gun and ketchup packets shaped like bullets. Oh my god that’s gold.”

JESSE: “He’d have to time travel forward then back just to get ketchup, and he’d need a proper smith to—wait a minute. What the hell are we even talking about?”

ANDY: “The best thing there is, Jesse.”

JESSE: “That is far too situational for it to come from your intuition. You are a properly cringe dude.”

ANDY: “Bro. You joked about child labor of all things man. That’s dark.”

JESSE: “Aha! So you did know I was joking. Put on a grin for me then, since you understand it so well. Don’t let all that beauty go to waste.”

ANDY: “I have a feeling that was more insensitive than you are letting on. You are not a fifty-year old man talking to a seventeen-year old waitress at Denny’s. Oh, and the next thing you say better not be mansplaining.”

JESSE: “...Bah! Fuck, you got me, that’s all my brain could muster right now.”

ANDY: “I just don’t think it’s all that funny. You have to talk down on things and people just to get your laugh. I don’t get that. I just don’t. Sometimes what you say makes me sort of uncomfortable.”

JESSE: “Well I can’t take you seriously either. I mean, your humor is just so vanilla—how does that just tickle you? I don’t mean anything by it of course. It doesn’t make you less odd than me.”

ANDY: “Ok–ok. Fine. We will call a truce on that then. But I do think I’m funny. I’m friendly, charming and witty. You’re just…you like…absurdity.”

JESSE: “And I don’t mind that, my friend. Lowkey, your jokes actually do make me chuckle. But because they’re cringe, not because they’re funny. I pity you man. I really do.”

ANDY: “Oh shut up. You are not funny.”

JESSE: “ Ha! Yeah. I’m not funny.”