Delivery Style: dialogue

Dialogue joke delivery styles, punchline pacing, and comedy formats for people with specific chaos preferences from Chaotic Meh — organized so the algorithm can pretend this place has adult supervision.

  • I’m Going Home to Screw the Cat

    Three mice were sitting in a bar talking about how tough they were. The first mouse slams a shot and says, “I play with mouse traps for fun. I’ll run into one on purpose and as it is closing on me, I grab the bar and bench press it twenty or thirty times.” And with that he slams another shot.

    The second mouse slams a shot and says, “That’s nothing. I take those D-Con tablets, cut them up and snort them just for the fun of it.” And with that he slams another shot.

    The third mouse slams a shot, gets up and walks away.

    The first two mice look at each other, and then turn to the third mouse and ask, “Where the heck are you going?”

    The third mouse stops and replies, “I’m going home to screw the cat.”

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  • Breakfast

    The angry wife met her husband at the door. There was alcohol on his breath and lipstick on his collar.

    “I assume,” she snarled, “that there is a very good reason for you to come waltzing in here at six o’clock in the morning.”

    “There is,” he replied. “Breakfast.”

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  • You’re Sitting on the Mop Bucket

    A drunk gets up from the bar and heads for the restroom. A few minutes later, a loud, blood-curdling scream is heard. A few minutes after that, another loud scream reverberates through the bar. The bartender goes to investigate why the drunk is screaming.

    “What’s all the screaming about in there? You’re scaring my customers!”

    “I’m just sitting here on the toilet and every time I try to flush, something comes up and squeezes the hell out of my balls.”

    With that, the bartender opens the door, looks in and says, “You idiot! You’re sitting on the mop bucket!”

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  • Are You Sure This Is Where He Fell In

    A drunk stumbles into a baptismal service on Sunday afternoon down by the river. He walks down into the water and stands next to the preacher.

    The minister turns and notices the old drunk and says, “Mister, are you ready to find Jesus?”

    The drunk replies, “Yesh, Your Honor, I shur am!”

    The minister dunks the fellow under the water and pulls him right back up. “Have you found Jesus?” he asked.

    “Nooo, Your Highness, I shur dint!” says the drunk. The preacher then dunks him under for a bit longer, brings him up and says, “Now, brother, have you found Jesus?”

    “Noooo, Your Majesty, I shur dint!” the drunk slurs again.

    Disgusted, the preacher holds the man under for at least thirty seconds this time, brings him out of the water and says in a harsh tone, “My good man, have you found Jesus YET?”

    The drunk wipes his eyes and says to the preacher, “Are you sure this is where he fell in?”

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  • So How Many Does It Take

    Joe is having a drink in his local bar when in walks this gorgeous woman. Joe, not being too shy, goes up and sits next to her. He buys her a drink and then another and then another. After this and the accompanying small talk, Joe asks her back to his place for a “good time.”

    “Look,” says the woman, “what do you think I am? I don’t turn into a slut after three drinks, you know!”

    “OK,” replies Joe, “so how many does it take?”

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  • This Is a Singles Bar

    A man walks into a bar and says, “Excuse me, I’d like a pint of beer.”

    The bartender serves the drink and says, “That’ll be four dollars.”

    The customer pulls out a twenty-dollar bill and hands it to the bartender.

    “Sorry, sir,” the bartender says, “but I can’t accept that.”

    The man pulls out a ten-dollar bill and the bartender rejects his money again. “What’s going on here?” the man asks.

    Pointing to a neon sign, the bartender explains, “This is a Singles Bar.”

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  • Maybe Later

    An eight-year-old kid swaggered into the lounge of the hotel and demanded of the barmaid, “Give me a double Scotch on the rocks.”

    “What do you want to do, get me in trouble?” the barmaid asked.

    “Maybe later,” the kid said. “Right now, I just want the Scotch.”

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  • We’re on the Patch

    Two drunks are driving down the highway, drinking their beer. All of a sudden the driver notices lights flashing in his mirror — the cops are on his tail. His buddy says, “What are we going to do?”

    The driver says, “Don’t worry. Just do exactly what I tell you and everything will work out perfectly. First, peel the labels off our beer bottles and we’ll each stick one on our forehead. Then shove the bottles underneath the seat, and let me do the talking.”

    They pull over and the cop walks up to the car. He looks at them kind of funny, but asks to see the guy’s driver’s license. And he asks him, “Have you been drinking?”

    “Oh, no, sir,” the driver replies.

    “I noticed you weaving back and forth across the highway. Are you sure you haven’t been drinking?” the cop asks.

    “Oh, no, sir,” the drunk answers. “We haven’t had a thing to drink tonight.”

    “Well, I’ve got to ask you,” says the cop, “what on earth are those things on your forehead?”

    “That’s easy, Officer,” says the drunk. “You see, we’re both alcoholics, and we’re on the Patch!”

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  • Your Tit Is Hanging in the Ashtray

    A very inebriated lady walked into a bar shortly before closing time, sat at the bar and ordered, “Barbender, barbender, I would like a Martoutsy.”

    Clean Mode hides the spicy parts.
    Unleash Chaos

    The bartender brought her a Martini, which she drank in one gulp.

    “Barbender, I would like another Martoutsy.” Again, the bartender brought her a Martini.

    By this time the lady was leaning heavily forward, barely able to hang on. She called, “Barbender, your Martoutsys are giving me heartburn.”

    Patiently, the bartender came near her and said, “Lady, I am not a barbender, but a bartender, and what you have been drinking is not a Martoutsy, but a Martini, and finally, you do not have heartburn — your tit is hanging in the ashtray.”

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  • Turn The Car On

    Turn The Car On

    (Driving test)

    Instructor: Turn the car on

    Me: Umm ok. (rubbing interior) You like that? You filthy who-

    Instructor: Ok we’re done here