So, there are 2 people in a kitchen. It doesn’t matter what gender or race they are – it’s not that kind of joke.
But one of them suddenly picks up a rolling pin and goes apeshit. They start smashing the kettle, which buckles without too much effort. Then the plastic toaster which crunches to reveal the thin metal skeleton, like fish bones among a see of white shells. The second person just looks on, impassive.
We then start to see the joke in slow motion. The person with the rolling pin turns their attention to a 5kg bag of pasta. It’s that kind of plastic that has a real strength to it for holding stuff, but which can split easily if shocked. We now zoom in, the rolling pin like a tree falling slowly into the bag, which suddenly gives way to the tide of brown twists.
As the fusilli spills out, we hear the sharp clicks of the hard dry pasta hitting the cheap kitchen surfaces, amplified like gun shot. The person does not relent and we zoom in further, time continuing to slow. Close-up we can see how springy the pieces of pasta are, fizzing with the energy imparted by the rolling pin. The white noise increases as small fragments rocket through the air. They don’t rocket through the air in a triumphant Hollywood kind of way – it’s not that kind of joke.
Then we see one whole piece of fusilli pivot over another to be launched through the air. We track it, still in slow motion, still as if it were a large object; a comet hurtling through the dank electric blue of the shitty little kitchen. We rotate around this noble missile to see that its destination is the head of the second person. In slow motion, at such a scale, the second person seems all the more impassive. A giant sun.
All of a sudden the scene plays out in ‘normal’ time and space. That is, human time. In a fraction of a second the tiny piece of fusilli hits the second person full on in the face and their head explodes. Not a Quentin Tarantino explosion with chunks of skull and brain everywhere – it’s not that kind of joke. Their head just atomises into a pink haze. The wall behind gets this rosy hue likes it’s been airbrushed in the 1970s. Not like a car advert, not like a car advert at all – it’s not that kind of joke either. It’s like a kind of fleshy mildew.
Anyway, the scientists arrive and they are confused by what has happened. The lead scientist – who could either be male or female – says to the first person, “I’m sorry but Science is dictated by probability and cannot determine infinite variables from a Universe dictated by chaos”. Then with a sigh, “What I’m trying to say is that we don’t know why your friend’s head vaporised.”
Well, that’s the punch line. I know it’s not that funny, but then, it’s not that kind of joke.
Written in response to Pace Oddity| The Daily Post