In ancient times, there was a dearth of funny men. Men were wanted- to make people laugh, to bring a smile to people’s faces. The lack of humour came from the grinding duties imposed on the public by the state. There weren’t any machines so all the work had to be done manually. Be it turning the pages for an elite-class man who liked to read or chewing food on behalf of the zamindaar’s lazy son. Labour was cheap, people were made to work and it is a well-known fact that the first drop of sweat drains out all the humour from the human body.
This gave birth to the PJ phenomenon. The PJ or the programmed jester phenomenon is when one individual in the population is assigned the dreadful task of making people laugh. He is considered to be a funny man based on his credentials which are nothing but the inclination toward being a comedian. A PJ-artist is never a true comedian, in fact, rumour has it that he is made to undergo a surgery where all the humourous neurons from his brain are surgically removed. This individual is initially supported and cheered by the crowd and encouraged to talk and is allowed to consider himself a funny man. He sneezes and the crowd starts rolling in the alleys! After a certain amount of time, say, 1 week, he is programmed to self destruct and make way for a new jester. The former PJ-artist was beaten to a pulp, his throat slit, limbs dissected and then his body was thrown to dogs for a hearty meal. This way the crowd could let out its emotions after 1 week of, although senseless, laughter. The martyrdom of the PJ-artist was established and everybody lived jokingly ever after.
As times changed, people were relieved of the gruesome duties and machines took their place. Now the zamindar could use a mechanical nail cutter to trim his growing nails instead of some 80 years old, toothless villager being made to chew off the excess nails and fine-trim the irregularities in the nail contours. Humour took a place in society and no longer were the services of the PJ artist needed. The surviving descendants of PJ artists were told to take up a different profession and the not-so-funny jokes were not entertained (even for a week like in the ancient times) anymore. As beating someone to a pulp, chopping off his body parts and murdering him for telling a bad joke became socially unacceptable and in some countries, even against the law(!!), the PJ art took a different form. It evolved from a noble profession to a menace. PJ artists now are everywhere! Using “puns” in the name of jokes and destroying lives as we speak.
As now we cannot murder the jesters, we need to kill the joke.
1. Ask them to repeat the joke. Every time a joke is repeated, it dies a little.
2. Ask them to explain the joke. If you want to go really brutal, feign ignorance about the characters and ideas used in the joke. Watch the PJ-artist’s face go pale as he explains his own joke and drives those nails in its coffin.
3. Encourage them whenever they say something stupid and when they say it in a bigger setting and a lot many more people listening, give them a look that says- “what the hell dude! I think you’re losing your charm.”
4. When they are telling the joke, point out at their body parts which are weirdly large or small or basically disproportionate. Even minute observations like “Hey! Your nostrils flared when you said that! Can you repeat that word again!?” can put the joke burning on the backburner.
5. Space out when they are about to say something and come back to life when they end their joke, saying “Sorry! What?”
6. “Your joke wasn’t funny.” Have a really hot girl say it to them.
7. Murder them anyway and go to jail. You’ll be a martyr.