Slapstick comedy is thought to be universal; it goes beyond spoken language and is often more relatable to younger audiences than dry and witty humor. After all, who doesn't enjoy seeing a messy food fight or a bottle-blonde primadonna tripping over her veil and landing face first in her own wedding cake? Most likely your mind conjured up images of these events as I described them, and this is the power of slapstick in fiction, or writing in general. Where dry humor relies on readers getting the joke, slapstick often relies on vivid descriptions that aim at forming clear yet often ridiculous or exaggerated visuals in a reader's mind.

Although not known for slapstick comedy as such, Mark Twain's physical humor and odd, clumsy characters paved the way for many modern comedic styles, slapstick included. Twain was known for his exaggerations, or use of hyperbole, to create humor as well as social critique. As a component of slapstick, Twain's characters would be prone to physical mishaps and predicaments. While some writers might view slapstick as childish or immature, Mark Twain's combination of satire and physical humor is mentioned to show how a balance of slapstick and dry humor can be very effective (humor me).

A very well-known comedian here in South Africa, a real prankster, Leon Schuster uses slapstick in most of his films. He combines this technique with prank phone calls or candid camera-style pranks. The closest he's probably been to getting a broken arm, leg, or neck was when he, dressed up as “the good little Indian” Abdul Rasbanja, taunted a well-known seven-foot professional wrestler. He called him by another wrestler's name, said he liked his little beard (while fiddling with it), and toward the (or his) end slapped the wrestler in the face, mimicking what wrestlers do when fighting. Things went quite sour from there, but he lives to tell the tale. I find humor like this or the series Jackass extremely hilarious, and I encourage you to try some slapstick in your writing.

Slapstick in fiction may sound like a paradox: after all, slapstick is visual, messy, and loud, while words are flat, silent, and politely obedient. But therein lies the challenge and the fun. The trick is to make readers see the chaos in their minds without needing a video clip. Start with exaggeration. A minor stumble can become a grand spectacle if your narrative leans into it. For instance, a character who trips over a rug doesn’t just fall; they might flail like a marionette whose strings were cut mid-performance. Let your imagination roam, and your readers will follow. Equally important are character reactions. Humor rarely exists in a vacuum; it lives in how your characters process the absurdity around them. A dignified professor flinging spaghetti across the lecture hall is funnier if you show his mortification, his futile attempts at dignity, and his rapidly declining composure. The more human and relatable the response, the more the slapstick lands.

Timing in prose is subtle but crucial. Sentence length, rhythm, and pacing dictate comedic impact. Short, punchy sentences can mimic quick, chaotic motion: “He tripped. Arms flailed. Coffee flew. The cat judged.” Longer, winding sentences can heighten anticipation before the payoff: “He stepped carefully, as if the floor were made of molten lava, only to discover that the carpet, loyal in its deceit, had other plans.” Finally, know when to stop. Slapstick loses charm if overdone; too many collisions, tumbles, and pie-throwings turn from funny to exhausting. Use it sparingly. Sometimes, a single well-placed pratfall, described with wit and precision, is funnier than a roomful of characters bouncing off walls. In essence, writing slapstick is about translating motion into imagination, chaos into laughter, and minor disasters into memorable, character-driven comedy. It’s about inviting your readers to watch and chuckle without ever leaving their chairs.