Best Running Gags On Seinfeld

Everyone handles stress, anger, and disappointment differently. Some people shut down, preferring to be alone until they cool off. Others blow up. Others turn to vices or try to distract themselves with various habits. George Costanza, meanwhile, likes to shout in the third person. It makes no sense, so don't try to understand it. Just know that whenever he feels cornered or insulted, he'll lash out with a "George is gettin' upset!" or something equally cringey and hilarious.

This leads to a hysterical situation in Season 6, when George is suspected of stealing equipment from the Yankees. Mr. Wilhelm stops by George's office, hearing him ordering new athletic gear and thus seemingly confirming his intuition that Costanza is a thief. Wilhelm accuses him directly and uses George's excessive sweat as proof. But George has an alibi: He's eating hot chicken. "George likes his chicken spicy," he says. 

Later on, George Steinbrenner gets roped into the situation and also accuses George Costanza of stealing. Our boy, insulted and rattled by the accusation, defends himself in the third person. "George would never do anything like that," he says. To which Steinbrenner replies, "No, why would I? I own it."

Of course, George simply speaking in the third person is only mildly funny in and of itself. But the show's writers upped the ante by taking this little gag and using it to stuff the character into increasingly ridiculous and hilarious situations. Now that's good writing.

Everyone focuses (for good reason) on Kramer's magnificently over-the-top entrances into Jerry's apartment. But an equally helpful insight into who this character is comes from the fact that Kramer never knocks when he shows up at Jerry's. That's because Kramer seems to think that Jerry's apartment, and all that lies within, is his for the taking. He raids Jerry's fridge and cabinets, eating milk, fruit, and snacks as he so desires. He plops on Jerry's couch, grabs the remote, and watches whatever show he wants. He borrows Jerry's clothes and tools without a second thought.

Jerry — apparently so used to this — never puts up much of a fight. However, when he does mention it, Kramer insists Jerry is welcome to enter his apartment at will and eat his food too, but Jerry almost never sees a reason to visit Kramer's unit across the hall. In fact, we've only seen the inside of his home on a handful of occasions ourselves, and we can't blame Jerry for wanting to steer clear (or, for that matter, Kramer for always wanting to hang at Jerry's rather than his own place).

Kramer is the worst kind of neighbor — obnoxious, loud, rude, entitled, and completely lacking in self awareness. But, man, is he funny to watch from the safety of our own couches.

Listen, we get it. If we were a balding, unemployed man who lived with his parents a la George Costanza (his words, not ours), we'd be at least tempted to make up more attractive attributes about our lives too. We like to imagine, though, that we'd be a little more creative (not to mention believable) than he was when he impulsively invented "importer/exporter" Art Vandelay in order to lie his way through various awkward situations. 

He originally invented Vandelay as a fictional person he and Jerry were going to meet (they were really there so Jerry could accidentally "run into" a woman he knew worked there). However, he brings the character up later on to bolster his resume in job interviews, to appease the unemployment office (which wanted proof he was actively looking for work), and even to impress Elaine's boss in the publishing industry — he claimed Vandelay was an "obscure" writer but one of his favorites — in order to secure a job there.

Hilariously, the judge who presides over Jerry, George, Elaine, and Kramer's trial in "The Finale: Part 2" was named Arthur Vandelay. If only he'd known how his name was illicitly used to get George jobs and women over the years. Say what you will about the much-maligned final episodes of "Seinfeld," but that's a fantastic send-off to a hilarious running gag.

We never figure out what Kramer does for a living or how he manages to afford an apartment in one of the world's most expensive neighborhoods. But he does seem to be something of a Renaissance man. What he lacks in basic fashion sense or social skills, he makes up for with a seemingly endless array of minor marketable talents, including one for coming up with business ideas themselves.

In one episode, he reveals himself to be an expert on the Miss America pageant — annoying Jerry by stealing his date (a contestant) and coaching her for the big event. Who knew? In another episode, Kramer invents a coffee table book about coffee tables that itself turns into a coffee table. In another episode, he teams up with Jerry's dad to sell valuable old coats. In another, after getting constant calls from curious would-be moviegoers, Kramer realizes his new phone number is only one digit away from the number for 555-FILM, where people call to get information on movie times. Naturally, he decides to help people out in selecting movies and getting to the right theater. In still more episodes, he invents beach-scented cologne, builds a prototype of the "Bro" (also known as the "Manssiere"), creates the concept of a pizza place where you make your own pie, and even runs a bottle deposit scam with Newman.

In real life, we'd tell someone like this to get a job, but we honestly can't get enough of these hijinks.

Jerry makes at least as many enemies as friends over the course of the show. After all, much of the comedy comes from his being a selfish snob who pals around with equally inconsiderate ne'er-do-wells like George, Elaine, and Kramer. And while you can definitely sympathize with many of the people Jerry angers, like Apu and Tim Whatley and the countless women he dumps for the shallowest possible reasons, there's a handful who are so obnoxious and unlikeable that you have no choice but to side with Jerry. At the top (bottom?) of that list is none other than Newman, Wayne Knight's portly, cackling, scheming mailman from downstairs.

Whenever the two run into each other, the greetings are mirrored. Newman, who's always up to no good, cackles, "Hello, Jerry!" while Jerry sneers back, "Hello, Newman." There's no missing the contempt they have for each other, and it's never not funny. Newman himself seems to delight in their seemingly endless, low-intensity rivalry, which makes Jerry's disgust upon seeing him all the more hilarious. 

The real George Steinbrenner, owner of the New York Yankees, wasn't initially a fan of Larry David's lampooning of him on "Seinfeld," but he came around after watching an episode of the show and realizing it was A) hilarious, and B) all done in good fun. We suppose it's hard to be insulted by a caricature of yourself when said caricature is such a bizarre, almost otherworldly person that there's nothing that can be reasonably traced back to you. And that wacky detachment from reality is precisely why the show's version of Steinbrenner — George's boss when he works for the Yankees — works so well.

He's an outrageous, hilarious character who's never seen from the front. And he's always singing the wrong lyrics to "Heartbreaker" or rambling about everything from alcoholic chickens to calzones until his employees are forced to slowly back out of the office as he rants and raves. Perhaps his best moment, as well as one of the funniest "Seinfeld" moments in the entire show, is when George, trapped in the mini-bedroom he's made for himself beneath his desk, has Jerry call in a bomb threat to get Steinbrenner out of his office before he's caught. Instead, Steinbrenner shouts, "A bomb? Quick, everybody under the desk!" And soon, he's joining Constanza in his hiding place. You certainly can't make bomb threat jokes today, but man, are we glad we got this little gem.