A Comedian’s Guide To Being Funny: Bad Balance, Invisible Capes, and Secret Doorways

A Comedian’s Guide To Being Funny: Bad Balance, Invisible Capes, and Secret Doorways


On today’s episode of “Will it Work?” I finally unlock the full potential of my invisible cape! (If you want to know why I had to fix my “invisible cape”, check out my first post and what I discovered.

Reflecting on The Jugular incident, I realize the error of my ways: doors! With this newfound knowledge, Now I use doors Narnia meets Portal style. Let me set the scene for you. Picture a hallways of doors. One glass door in particular led toward the exterior of The Jugular and another plain white door (strangely smelling of Windex) led straight into the halls. I decided that the best course of action was to attack from the outside, metaphorically of course. There I was, peering through the mailbox (Who knew a legendary holder of magical books had a mailbox?) to see if the newly appointed guard was around. Good thing she was preoccupied with beating a person’s monumental, totally difficult, and ludicrous score on Tetris. I think the player name was SAT, but then again that could be any brilliant, marvelous, and gifted thief. “Ahem!” Not thief! Who said thief? Not me! Ahem!

Afterward, I decided to try out my new super sneaky skills by conjuring my inner dark gray carpet and trying to blend in with it. (Thump! Thump!) These are the sounds of someone who fell for my disguise, walking over me as my heart played to the tempo of death metal. Because of that traumatic experience, I used my newly rebuilt invisibility cape to blend into those blinding white walls. I quickly realized that I didn’t need to hide my cape. However, that didn’t save me from a sudden mini cardiac arrest when a worker came out of nowhere to inspect me. Following safety precautions and Thievery 101 (another book for another column), I looked desperately for a disguise and was lucky enough to find a bright green cover up, (so bright that it hurt the eyes of all the haters).

With that useful weapon and my hawk eyes, I found The Novel upon a very tall shelf, as if a parent put it there to keep their child from finding it. As if I would ruin it, like an innocent child. The worst thing I would ever do to it is love it too much. Learning my lesson with Folly’s StepZ (the name of the preposterous company that mailed me a step ladder), I put my grimy feet on a nearby chair to quickly get what I so desperately needed: the book. That’s when nature took a cruel turn and ruined my plans. The flowers on my super secret sneakers somehow created an imbalance in the universe and caused me to fall off the chair. Perhaps it was revenge for stepping upon a holy chair? This is the only logical explanation, because everything in the Jugular is is heavily holy.

With one hand on the book and the other furiously waving through the air, my falling motion seemed to have moved my hands closer to the edge of the pages. This feeling was familiar, all too familiar. My fingers lingered on a random and isolated page and my body descended toward the ground. As I fell, I questioned my entire existence. Ripping a page couldn’t possibly be the end of the world. Right? At this point, I’m better off ripping all the pages out separately than stealing the book itself. The new shade of red formed. I jumped to my feet and ran to the nearest wardrobe, aka, closet. After consulting the cleaning detergents and sponges, I went home dejected, but at least I had another page in my hands. Guess it’s time to record my findings by talking to my computer, again.

1 comment

Add yours

+ Leave a Comment