Three guys are sitting in a bar. One’s this crusty old guy named Marvin; he’s in the bar every night getting completely sloshed. One’s middle-aged, his name is Louis, and he’s this hard-working factory-type, salt-of-the-earth and all that. Then there’s Jimmy, the youngest one, sort of a punk. He just comes into the bar on Friday nights and hangs out with the other two just because he doesn’t have anything better to do. He thinks Louis is okay, but man does he hate Marvin. Marvin’s just this total know-it-all who thinks he’s really funny. He’s always telling these absolutely god-awful jokes and then laughs obnoxiously loud at them. There’s nothing Jimmy wants more than to shut the old geezer up.

So these three guys are in the bar, right? And Marvin is going on like usual, pulling out some of the oldest jokes in the book. I mean, these are the kind of jokes that no one could have ever thought were funny. Like “A horse walks into a bar and the bartender asks ‘Why the long face?’” and “Two guys walk into a bar but one ducks.”

Finally, after listening to this for like half an hour, Jimmy has finally had enough.

“Look,” Jimmy says. “You’re just not funny. I could come up with a better joke right here on the spot, so could you please just shut the hell up already?”

Of course, Marvin’s pride is all wounded by this and he sits up straighter on his stool. “All right,” he says, “prove it. Make up a joke right here and now. Louis here can be the judge to see if you’re really so damned funny.”

Louis is all for this. He gets as annoyed by Marvin as Jimmy does, so he’s just as eager to see Marvin put in his place.

Jimmy’s all of a sudden really worried though, because he knows he’s not actually that funny. He doesn’t know any good jokes, so he has no choice but to make one up. He looks around the bar for some sort of inspiration, but there isn’t much. Not able to stall any longer, Jimmy starts his joke.

“Well, three guys are sitting in a bar,” Jimmy says. Seems like a good enough place to start a joke, but from there he’s really stuck. There’s nothing else in the bar that’s really inspiring.

That’s when he looks over to front door and sees something really strange. The door’s been left open a crack, and through this crack a mushroom crawls.

Not like a normal mushroom but some kind of warrior mushroom. It’s got glowing eyes and limbs and everything. It’s even got what looks like a crossbow made out of a paperclip and a rubber band that shoots toothpicks.

Weird as this is, Jimmy is too drunk and too desperate right now to question it. He continues his joke. “One of these three guys has challenged another to come up with a joke, and just when the one guy can’t think of one, a mushroom walks into the bar.”

Marvin grunts. He obviously doesn’t think this is going to be very funny, but Louis raises an eyebrow. He’s intrigued enough that he gestures for Jimmy to continue. Neither of them notice the peculiar little mushroom guy, so Jimmy’s the only one who sees the second mushroom walk in. Just going with the flow, Jimmy narrates everything he sees. “A second mushroom walks in right behind him, and the two mushrooms start fighting.”

“But why would they start fighting?” Louis asks.

“I don’t know, maybe that’s just what mushroom men do,” Jimmy says, and he’s scratching his head. He’s just as clueless as the other two, but that does indeed seem to be what the mushroom guys are doing.

The second mushroom looks a little different, like maybe he’s some sort of different variety, and he’s carrying a little makeshift weapon as well, this pencil with a flattened metal bottlecap on the end to make it look like an ax. The two mushrooms start attacking each other, and an epic battle takes place all across the bar’s floor.

None of that matters to Jimmy however. He’s too busy trying to find a way to turn all this into a punchline, and he just doesn’t see a way to do it. “So anyway,” Jimmy says, “these mushroom guys are fighting...”

“You already said that,” Marvin says, and he follows this up with a burp. “Told ya you weren’t no funnier than me.”

Louis nods. “Sorry, Jimmy, but I don’t think this is funny either.”

“Now just hold your horses,” Jimmy says. “I ain’t finished yet.” The two mushroom men are still fighting. The one with the crossbow shoots at the second one, but the toothpick misses and ricochets off the wall, hitting a hanging lamp dangling over the three at the bar. The lamp creaks as it swings, but none of this is helping Jimmy and he decides its time to stop trying to make up a joke and just goes with a punchline he heard a long time ago.

“The first mushroom wins the fight, and in celebration he goes up to the bar for a beer. The bartender says ‘Hey, we don’t serve your kind here.’ And the mushroom says...”

But Marvin holds up his hand for Jimmy to stop. “The mushroom says ‘Why not? I’m a fun guy.’” Marvin snorts. “Was that supposed to be your big punchline? I’ve heard that one a million times, too. Dammit, give me a punchline I’ve never heard before, you little punk!”

The lamp overhead, loosened by the stray shot from the mushroom man, breaks off from the ceiling and clobbers Marvin on the head. He’s out cold and drops to the ground. Both Louis and Jimmy stare down at Marvin for a second, then look back at each other.

“Yup,” Louis says. “That there’s a punchline that works well enough for me. You win.”

So Jimmy’s of course pleased as punch. He looks over to where the two mushroom men were fighting on the floor and sees that the first little guy, the one with the crossbow, has apparently won the fight and is standing over the unconscious other mushroom. The little guy looks like he’s ready to celebrate, and Jimmy thinks maybe he ought to treat the little man to a drink. After all, Jimmy thinks, he really does look like a fun guy.

But before Jimmy can do anything of the sort, Louis speaks again. “Do another joke,” Louis says.

Jimmy’s at a loss until he sees the mushroom man tense up and aim his crossbow at the door. Jimmy looks at the door, smiles, and starts his next joke.

“So a killer mutated rabbit walks into a bar....”

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