Raise your hand if you’ve seen a car commercial that features the following:

*Some rich dude/gal drives their super-expensive luxury car that no ordinary person can afford out of their seventy gazillion dollar home.

*They drive through the empty streets of Los Angeles at night (which are conveniently empty of trash, homeless people, and homeless people having arguments with invisible aliens).

*They’re incredibly happy at their car that looks like every other car in every other car commercial since the 90’s that will one day either be crushed into scrap metal or become a pile of weed-covered rust in the backyard because its owner is a crippled, 90 year old man who is convinced that he will one day restore it, sell it, and become rich.

Sound familiar? I’d estimate that’s about 80% of all car commercials in the United States since the 90’s (the rest are either cars driving around Southern California hills while a creepy kid whispers, ‘zoom zoom’, and cowboys throwing things into pickup trucks while a guy yells, ‘Like a rock!’). With almost every car commercial being almost identical, it takes a lot to stand out. I can only think of three that do so; this one:

and this fake one (warning: This video contains language that is VERY not safe for work):

But the one that stands out for me is this one:

It may be short, but it has one great trick for writers to learn:

When doing a parody fight, have your characters treat it seriously:

I still remember watching this commercial for the first time and laughing at the absurdity of these Matrix-style tough guys going into battle with colorful water pistols, water guns, and water balloons (come to think of it, a remastered version of the Matrix trilogy where everyone wields water guns would be hilarious). Watching the commercial again, what strikes me the most is that the characters treat their situation with the utmost seriousness. They see nothing funny at all about trying to kill each other with H20.

In our own comedic stories, it can be tempting to have characters comment on the absurdity of the situations they’re in; a ‘wink at the audience’ moment, if you will. But I’ve come to realize that those moments should be avoided. When watching a scene unfold, our brains have a good idea of what to expect, but when an unexpected, comedic element is thrown it, it throws us off balance (in a good way), and we enjoy the novelty of seeing something we’ve seen done a hundred times be done in an absurd way.

Think of classic Hollywood parodies: ‘Airplane!’ ‘Monty Python and The Holy Grail’ ‘The Naked Gun’ trilogy. In all of them, their characters don’t see anything funny about the situations they’re going through. Had they laughed, pointed out the absurdity, or otherwise become aware of the parody elements, the films would have lost much of their humor. Thus, when writing our own comedy, perhaps the simplest rule to remember is to keep it straight… and that you probably shouldn’t bring a water pistol to a gun fight.