The Joke Man lay in the humming hospital room, dying and alone.
“Alone and misunderstood,” he cursed to himself. “how quaint.”
Joke man had spent his entire life cursing and debasing the mundane, safe, unoriginal. He had created (sort of) a career for himself doing the completely original and unexpected.
Many (most) didn't appreciate what he did. But those that did, thought he was a genius. (especially himself)
He tried to think of something completely new to say about the hum of the respiratory machine, the beep of the monitors, the body of his nurse, the quality of the food.
Nothing came to mind.
Soon the cliched cold crept through his typical ravaged body and the mundane dark came over his eyes.
In front of himself he saw a smiling clown. A typical, easy scare, teenager jump scene clown.
Deep down he knew he had to laugh.