If we’re talking black humor involving horrible things happening to cute animals, how about this old one:
A woman invites her date over to her home–a penthouse apartment high above Central Park. The woman has a lively young cocker spaniel as a pet and, while she’s inside getting herself and her date a drink, the man sits out on the patio playing fetch with the dog and a rubber ball. Three times the man tosses the ball around the patio deck and, each time, the ball bounces around the patio with the over-energized canine following each ricochet in hot pursuit until it catches the object in his mouth and hurriedly trots back to the man. The fourth time the man tosses the ball, it takes an errant bounce and goes over the ledge with the dog following close behind.
For a few endless seconds, the man sits stunned over what he’s seen. Then, for a few more infinite moments, the man mentally scrambles on what to say to the woman about what happened. Finally, the man gets up and walks to the doorway and says, “Has your dog been feeling really depressed, lately?”
Well, I’d say I have a dark sense of humor. But I have a procivity for laghing at things that aren’t supposed to be laughed at. For instance, I was watching “The Shinning” the other day; Jack Nicholson’s character practically had me in stitches!
Especially the part where the kid sit’s on Jack’s lap and he asks him “Dad, would you ever hurt me or mommy?” To whcih Jack repies with that half crazed look on his face that he’s so famous for “NNNnnooo, son I would NNnneever hurt you or mommy…”
Then there’s that scene with the bat… but you get my point.
Most of the time when people are trying to be dark and funny; it doesn’t always work out to be as such.
This isn’t black humor. It’s a weak idea stretched out to column length. Even as a one-liner, it’s not funny.
Now if you want true black humor, see something like The War of the Roses or dead baby jokes. If you want to tell a joke about killing a cat, put some bite into it.
Where I draw the line is pathos, played straight, tricking you into feeling something and then calling you a weak lily-livered bourgeois patsy when you do.