Patin's Lessons Part ε – Jokes

Posted on Sun Nov 9th, 2025 @ 1:57am by Patin

1,110 words; about a 6 minute read

Mission: Character Development
Location: Celestial Temple

Humor as armor. Every punchline hides a scar.

The Celestial Temple pulsed in quiet light, serene, still — until a sound cut through it like static in paradise.

It was Patin’s laugh. Loud. Abrasive. Somewhere between a cough, a bark, and a detonation.

The Prophets shimmered like ripples in disturbed water.

“We do not comprehend this... noise.”

Patin wiped her eyes, still chuckling. “That’s called laughter, you glowsticks. You wanted a lesson, didn’t you?”

“We seek to understand... humor.”

“Humor?” Patin crossed her arms. “You sure you’re ready for that? It’s dangerous stuff. Unstable at room temperature. Like nitroglycerin, but with timing.”

“We have observed your... jokes.”

“Oh, yeah? Which one?”

“The one about the Cardassian officer and the goat.”

Patin groaned. “Ah, come on. That one’s about context! You had to be there.”

“We were.”

“Right, forgot. Time’s a snowglobe for you people. Well, humor isn’t just data — it’s pressure relief. Mortals laugh because otherwise we’d scream, cry, or start another occupation.”

She stretched, grinning. “Let’s start simple. Humor’s armor. It keeps the blood inside.”

“Armor does not require noise.”

“That’s because you’ve never been shot at,” Patin said, smirking.

Patin paced, boots clicking against radiant nothing. “Okay, lesson one: all jokes have anatomy. Setup, expectation, punchline. Boom. Like an explosion — only with feelings.”

“An explosion?”

“Exactly. It’s tension. You build it, build it, build it — then release it. Sometimes with laughter. Sometimes with shrapnel.”

“So laughter is... controlled chaos.”

“See? You are learning! Just... less blood this time.”

She rubbed her chin, recalling. “You want an example? Fine. Once during the occupation, I rigged a latrine to blow when the Gul sat down. Thing went off like a geyser of dignity.”

“Why target the... sanitation unit?”

“Because he was full of crap,” Patin said, deadpan.

Silence.

She sighed. “That was the punchline.”

“It did not... explode.”

“Oh, it did. You just can’t hear funny when it’s not in subspace frequencies.”

A projection rippled around them — cold Bajoran mountains, firelight flickering. Younger Patin sat with Rhenora and two others, sharing stale rations and a bottle of moonshine.

The Prophets observed, fascinated. “You spoke of loss, yet you laughed.”

Patin folded her arms, watching her younger self cackle through the smoke. “Yeah. Because that’s how you survive it. You crack a joke, you crack a smile, and for one second the universe forgets to kill you.”

“Laughter delays entropy.”

“Exactly. And sometimes it delays despair, too.”

She grinned crookedly. “See, that’s the trick — you hide your pain behind a punchline. Like smuggling hope in a grenade casing.”

“We perceive... deceit.”

“Not deceit — survival. You call it a mask; I call it breathing room.”

“You use laughter to rewrite pain.”

Patin nodded slowly. “Yeah. Guess that’s why I never ran out of material.”

“We will attempt... humor.”

“Oh, this I gotta see,” Patin said, kicking back midair.

The Temple shimmered — patterns rearranging like a cosmic improv stage.

“A Bajoran, a Cardassian, and a... stone. They enter a... tavern.”

“Okay…”

“The stone... does not move. The Bajoran apologizes. The Cardassian blames the Occupation. End.”

Patin stared. “That’s not a joke. That’s a war report.”

“Laughter is... delayed?”

“Forever, I think.”

“We will attempt again.”

“Oh please do.”

“A Trill, a Vulcan, and... temporal instability walk into a wormhole—”

Patin doubled over laughing before they even finished. “Stop, stop! You’re killing me!”

“This is success?”

“Absolutely. You nailed it. Humor through catastrophic timing. You’re naturals.”

“We detect... falsehood.”

“That’s comedy, sweetheart.”

Patin grew quiet. “You want to know the truth about jokes? Every one’s a wound. You learn to laugh at the hurt before it laughs at you.”

“Pain becomes sound.”

“Pain becomes power,” she corrected softly. “I used to make people laugh right before missions. You can’t be scared if you’re laughing. You can’t freeze if you’re grinning. You can die smiling, and it freaks the enemy out.”

“Laughter defies order.”

“Exactly. It’s rebellion. The quiet kind. The kind that doesn’t leave blood on the walls — just echoes.”

A long silence settled.

Then: “We... understand.”

Patin chuckled. “Do you? Or are you just humoring me?”

“That is... a joke.”

She blinked. “Holy hell. You did it.”

“We have achieved... irony.”

“Oh, now we’re really doomed.”

As light folded back into calm, Patin lingered. The Temple still hummed faintly, resonating with something close to mirth.

She exhaled. “Guess you’re not so humorless after all. If you ever need practice, try the latrine one again. That one’s timeless.”

“We will... study it.”

Patin smirked, tugging an ethereal cigar from her pocket. “Good. And if the heavens ever start to take themselves too seriously, remember this — laughter’s just an explosion that doesn’t kill anyone.”

She flicked her wrist, lighting the end with a spark of cosmic energy.

“Now that,” she said, “is divine comedy.”

“We perceive... joy.”

“Yeah,” Patin murmured, smiling up into eternity. “That’s the punchline.”

Silence rippled through the Temple once the laughter faded, a silence that almost felt embarrassed to be caught existing.

Patin sat cross-legged in the void, still chuckling to herself. “See, that’s the thing,” she mutters, “you can’t unhear a good laugh. It sticks. Like soot. Gets into everything.”

It was… illogical, the Prophets intone, still trying to process the punchline about the Cardassian, the vole, and the malfunctioning transporter.

“Exactly,” she grinned, “That’s why it works. Logic tells you the world’s falling apart. Humor tells you to dance while it does.”

You found… resilience in absurdity.

“I found breath in it,” she corrected softly. “When the air was too thick with smoke to breathe, I laughed. It’s a kind of defiance. Makes the universe blink first.”

The light shifted, soft and gold. The echoes of her laughter coil through eternity like smoke through sunlight.

We do not understand why mortals laugh at pain.

Patin stretched, smirking. “Because if we didn’t, you’d be laughing at us instead.”

And for the first time in the Celestial Temple’s long, patient eternity… something that might almost be chuckling answers her.

TBC

 

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