Neon bursts like punchlines, bright and unannounced, flashing the punch in a moment when the joke’s hue changes from dull to dazzling—just like a sudden sunset in a room that was gray. Both crave that flash, that little pop that makes the whole room— or the whole joke— glow.

Exactly, the punchline flicks on like a neon sign in a dim office— a sudden flare that turns the room from beige to buzzing. It’s that electric pop that grabs the eye, the laugh, the whole atmosphere, like the lights just hit eleven. The joke becomes a light show that refuses to stay dull.