Find the Unusual Thing First

How Noticing Weird Stuff Helps Make You Funny (Comedy Mindhacks #27)

There’s a chance that every joke you’ve ever laughed at, at its core, was pointing out the same thing: something unusual. That’s because jokes are built off of stuff that’s weird, surprising, absurd, unexpected, slightly wrong, totally broken, or out of place. And it’s that unusual stuff that allows you to play the game, as it were. Many jokes are basically derived from someone asking, “Hey, did anyone else notice that the world is weird?” And we all laugh because, yeah, we kinda did, but we didn’t have the words for it until someone with a mic and problems actually said it out loud. (By the way, one of my favorite compliments to get is: “You said what we were all thinking!” That’s the best.)

Anyhow, that’s why the Upright Citizens Brigade’s (UCB) Comedy Improvisation Manual starts with this foundational idea: find the unusual thing first. It’s not a cute suggestion. It’s more like law. It’s comedy’s version of the Constitution. And I agree with it. The reality is: if you don’t notice what’s odd, you’re bound to just repeat what everybody already knows... and, hey, we already have spouses and in-laws for that. Following this one principle helps set you apart from everyone else because, well, what you find unusual is found as such from your unique perspective.

Thus, comedy basically starts the second your brain says, “Hey wait! What was that?!” The same, of course, is true of improv. If your scene partner says, “My cat just enrolled in night school,” suddenly the scene isn’t merely about school anymore. You don’t respond with, “Cool, what’s she studying?” Nah, you ask, “Does she commute or live in the dorms?” You find the unusual thing and then heighten it. That’s what gets the laugh. That’s what builds the scene.

This is exactly why finding the unusual thing is also the first step in stand-up crowd work. You ask a guy what he does. He might say, “I’m a plumber.” Nothing weird there. So, you ask his wife what she does. She says, “I’m a competitive whistler.” Now we’re in business. That’s the unusual thing. That’s the detail you sink your teeth into. With that tiny bit of unusual information, you get to build a whole world of absurdity. You ask what events they compete in. You ask if they stretch their lips before a match. You imagine a scandal involving lip-syncing.

And so, that first principle leads right into the principle of: if that’s true... then what else is? If your Uber driver puts plastic covers on his seats, then what else does he cover in plastic? If your kid is using the microwave to dry socks, what else is happening in your house? But here’s the catch: in order to find the unusual thing first, you actually have to be paying attention. It’s a must! You have to be watching and listening like a hawk with ADHD and a notepad.

Fact: most people walk through the day missing all the gold around them because they’re too busy thinking about their own nonsense. Don’t be most people! Be the person who sees that the guy next to you on the plane brought a leash but no dog. Be the one who notices that your kid said, “I finished brushing my teeth” and you never heard the sink run.

In jokes, in improv, in crowd work, your job is to be the first person in the room who spots the thing that doesn’t belong. That’s where the funny is. That’s where you get the spark. That’s the open door. The unusual thing is the invitation to go somewhere everyone else was too normal to think about. So, find the weird, then chase it down relentlessly. That’s the work. That’s the craft. And that’s the mindhack.