Humor as a Shield

And next up, they joke at the perfect time because humor is a defense mechanism.

You know the exact second to do it. The room gets heavy. Someone says something that lands a little

too close to the bone. The silence stretches just long enough to feel dangerous,

and you can sense it. People are about to lean in, ask more,

feel more, look at you like they might actually see you, so you interrupt

it with a line, not loud, not clownish, just precise, clean,

timed like a reflex. One sentence, and the tension dissolves. People laugh.

Shoulders drop. The moment moves on. The spotlight shifts away from the part