Running joke

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In the latest edition of Crime Scene Weekly, we explore the nature of the running joke!

"Hello, hello, and hello! My name isn't Oprah Winfrey, and not everybody gets a car! On the nature of cars, criminals steal them, and it just so happens that THIS is a show about criminals. I think. My name is Investig A. Tor, and this is a low-budget production."

Hello and welcome[edit]

To my show. I'm going to talk without speech marks because this reflects my 6-year-old daughter when she died - she was SPEECHLESS. Aha, aha! Speaking of dead people, criminals create them from live ones! They're called murderers, and if I were you, I wouldn't hang out with them because they have the tendency to stab things. With knives. In the face.

Today's topic is the Running Joke, which as you all know, is a terrible terrible thing because it reflects how terrible our terrible modern society has terribly degraded to. It's just terrible. And on the nature of terrible things, criminals do them! I'm going to stop saying that, because criminals do that too.

The Running Joke[edit]

The Running Joke is commonly found in communities which are over the age of a year. This is because those communities have had the time and resources to spend developing pointless inside jokes, called running jokes which they can laugh at while everyone else doesn't understand them because they're not cool enough to be part of their damn clique just like when I was a kid and the jocks wouldn't let me into their super awesome Sandwich Club, hot damn I really wanted those sandwiches-

*cough*

As I was saying, the running jokes have a tendency to run, because they are like Mexicans escaping over the border. Honestly, I don't get why everybody calls me racist. I'm not! Racism is a crime, and crime is for black people. Running Jokes are a crime because they are only funny if you understand them, just like jokes, except jokes are funny because even the Sandwich Club can get them. So what I'm saying is - if I had just gotten damn sandwiches as a child, I wouldn't have been ABUSED BY MY PARENTS.

It is time for a momentary respite to talk about the nature of the joke. "What's in a joke?" said my grandfather before shooting himself in the head with a revolver, is what my mother always used to tell me when I threatened to stab myself with a fork. I never quite understood that joke but I thought it was quite amusing because the gun wasn't even loaded, and my grandfather is still alive in a mental health unit. All's well that ends well, kids, except making running jokes because god do I hate those damn jokes.

Ahem.

To sum up this week's edition of Crime Scene Weekly, just remember - if you don't come home with the sandwiches, your father will beat you!