Sales wisdom says you approach sixty people, you’ll talk to thirty, get in depth with ten and convince one or two to accept whatever you’re hocking. Jeremy is selling jokes, a lot of jokes. This is different than most performers in contemporary comedy, where comics are selling a version themselves, something relatable. Groaners subverts expectations through brilliant writing, far-fetched premises and punishing puns. We’re never given a true sense of who Jeremy is, or what he wants you to think he is. The only sliver of Jeremy we see outside of his will and determination for the bitis when he acknowledges the tension and silence left in his wake, asking “what am I doing?” These instances feel like a reflective reprieve, a seed of doubt, a chance to bail. But the comic pushes through. “I got into a fight at a French cuisine exhibit, it was a real slugfest,” Jeremy continues. No time to chill, he has a lot more jokes to tell.