My Life Is a Joke, But At Least It’s Pretty Funny : Scary Stories – Short Horror Story

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Haha, what can I say? Sorry, if I’m always laughing. Sorry if it seems like I’m never fully listening to you. Ya see, I have this debilitating condition where I constantly hear a laugh track throughout my day-to-day goings on in my comedic life.

After each and every sentence, there it goes. “Ahahahaha!” just like that. “Ahahahaha!” Yep.

That canned laughter bursts out after everything I say and everything someone says to me even if there is no explicit joke involved. It’s ringing out from some unseen live studio audience right now as I hem and haw over how to properly type out this nightmare. I hope you can understand.

—Big laugh.

It doesn’t help that I’m naturally gifted when it comes to physical comedy either. You’ve probably noticed. I am cursed with a constantly clumsiness, yet somehow coordinated enough to never seriously hurt myself. I drop so many pies. Then the laughs roll in! They laugh at me and if I say something, they laugh and whoop and clap like I’m some sort of comedic genius, and the people around me can never fully understand, at work they can’t understand what I’m going through, what I’m hearing, what I’m feeling from the audience. I’ve explained it to them. They don’t get it, but they do know to just give me the time I need when I take a long pause, a pregnant pause to allow the “joke” to settle so that I may zing ’em again with another mundane sentence or shoulder shrug. Perfect timing. Always, always perfect comedic timing. I hate it.

—I said I hate it.

People in public don’t know me though, and the audience in my head loves them the most. They’re laughing their pants off, I hear the pants and shoes come off, when someone walks by me or I overhear someone placing an order for some food or something or a guy stops his car close to where I’m standing or even when I’m in the bathroom and a huge fat guy rushes in with his pants already halfway down and open stall door shits the loudest, fartiest poop I’ve ever heard in my life.

I mean, that is kinda funny, and that’s the worst part. I do think it’s funny. The infectious canned laughter works. I can’t help but react to that live studio audience that only I seem to experience. I laugh too. I crack a smile. I break “character”. I see the humor in all things just like they seem to. It’s horrible, really, if I think about it objectively, but I can’t help but laugh.

My life is a joke, but at least it’s pretty funny.

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