There is an old, apocryphal quote attributed to everyone from Mark Twain to Winston Churchill: "I didn't have time to write a short letter, so I wrote a long one instead."
This sentiment perfectly encapsulates the terrifying reality of comedy writing. Anyone can ramble through a mildly amusing five-minute anecdote. But condensing that anecdote into a razor-sharp, 15-second joke requires agonizing precision, ruthless editing, and a profound respect for the audience's time.
In the mechanics of joke writing, brevity is not just a stylistic preference; it is the fundamental physics of how laughs are generated. Here is why the golden rule of comedy is to trim the fat.
The Economics of Attention
When a comedian speaks (or a comedy writer’s prose is read), they are spending the audience's attention. Attention is a finite and rapidly depleting currency.
Every single word in a joke costs attention. If a joke contains too many words that do not directly contribute to the setup or the punchline, the audience's attention wanes. By the time the punchline arrives, they are bored, distracted, or—worst of all—they’ve had enough time to guess where the joke is going.
The faster you can get from the premise to the surprise, the harder the subversion impacts the brain.
The Anatomy of "Fat"
When comedy writers talk about "trimming the fat," they are referring to specific types of unnecessary words that dilute the impact of a joke.
1. Unnecessary Adjectives and Adverbs
Unless the color, size, or speed of an object is the specific hinge upon which the punchline turns, delete it.
- Fat: "I was walking down this really dark, incredibly spooky street late last night..."
- Trimmed: "I was walking down a dark street..."
2. Conversational Filler
In normal speech, we use filler words to hold our place in a conversation while we think. In scripted comedy, these are death knells to pacing. * Words to kill: "So anyway," "Like," "Literally," "You know what I mean," "And then he goes..."
3. Over-Explaining the Premise
Comedians often fear the audience won't "get" the setup, leading them to over-explain the context. You must trust the audience's intelligence. Give them exactly the minimum amount of information required to understand the geography of the joke, and nothing more.
The "Punch" in Punchline
A punchline works because it is a sudden, sharp impact. It is exactly like a physical punch.
Imagine a boxer throwing a jab. A fast, straight jab is effective because it arrives before the opponent can react. Now imagine the boxer dramatically winding up their arm, doing a little dance, and explaining why they are angry before throwing the punch. The punch loses all its power.
The same applies to the end of a joke. The punchline should ideally be placed at the absolute very end of the sentence.
- Weak: "She's a terrible dog, my girlfriend, because she eats chocolate out of the wrapper." (The punchline "dog" is buried in the middle. The sentence deflates after it).
- Strong (Anthony Jeselnik): "My girlfriend loves to eat chocolate. She loves to eat chocolate so much, she'll eat it right out of the wrapper. She's a terrible dog." (The punchline is the final syllable. The laugh happens immediately upon impact).
The Agony of the Kill
The hardest part of editing comedy is "killing your darlings." You may have written a beautifully descriptive sentence, or a hilarious side-tangent about your uncle. But if that sentence does not directly set up the punchline, it is actively hurting the joke.
Editing comedy is not about deciding what is funny; it is about deciding what is necessary.
If you strip a joke down to its absolute structural minimum—noun, verb, pivot, punchline—the remaining words hit with maximum velocity. In the world of humor, the shortest distance between two points is a laugh.