You open the Laugh-In lunchbox and...

...a gargantuan audience of old biddies materializes before your eyes. You're on a small stage, and in front of you is a microphone. Shrugging your shoulders, you step forward and adjust the mic.

You clear your throat. "Hi folks, nice to see ya... Say, what do you call a thousand lawyers chained up on the bottom of the ocean? A good start! Haw haw!"

The words have barely passed your lips when you scald yourself for making such a lame joke. The old folks don't seem to agree, though. They all loudly cackle, illustrating their amusement. Easy crowd.

"Thank you, thank you!" you say. "So, uh... knock knock!"

Instead of replying, the audience laughs even harder. You scratch your head.

"Um... Boo."

The audience is in hysterics. People fruitlessly try to wipe at the tears streaming down their cheeks.

"Yeah, uh... don't cry, it's just-" you try, but you can no longer get a word in. The oldies are just laughing way too hard. They don't stop. They don't pass out, or collapse, or die. They just keep laughing and laughing and laughing and...

Every word you speak into the microphone only seems to amplify their hyena-like screeches. Yes, you are in the Ironic Punishment region of Stand-Up Hell. You try to shield your ears from the tearing sounds of laughter, but it's no use. Shortly after, you collapse to your knees and swiftly lose your sanity, while the audience rolls on the floor laughin' their asses off. LOL.

START OVER, MISTER FUNNYPANTS!