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Bruce gets the last laugh

Bruce gets the last laugh
The Brooklyn Paper / Julie Rosenberg

In the end, Bruce Ratner wasn’t that funny.

Comedians stayed away from jokes at the expense the Atlantic Yards developer at Tuesday night’s anti-Atlantic Yards fundraiser, “Laugh Don’t Destroy,” at Union Hall in Park Slope.

With Ratner off the table, the overflow crowd of 150 was treated to the usual array of jokes about urinating, flatulating, defecating, masturbating, douching, drinking one’s own urine (it’s sterile, you know) and, of course, “Star Trek.”

But mostly, it was crude, rude and hilarious. And lucrative. The event raised $2,000 for Develop Don’t Destroy’s legal battle against Atlantic Yards, said spokesman Daniel Goldstein. [See page 1 for more on the lawsuit.]

Host Baron Vaughn opened up by saying that there were so many mean people in his building that he must “live on top of an a—hole burial ground.”

Bobby Tisdale earned screams with his imitation of “peeing like a little boy.”

Andrea Rosen described being so appalled at some guy popping a zit on a subway train that she pulled out a bottle of “Summer’s Eve” and cleaned her genitals for the entire 45-minute ride to Manhattan.

Gilad Foss got a big laugh from former congressional candidate, and anti-Yards activist, Chris Owens by impersonating Martin Luther King, Jr. when he encouraged Nichelle Nichols, who played Lt. Uhura on the 1960s sci-fi classic, to remain on the show.

When Ratner was evoked — in a call-and-repeat chant led by Develop Don’t Destroy volunteer Jezra Kaye, who held a picture of Ratner on stage — there were about as many laughs as a hernia operation.

“I know a man whose name is Ratner,” Kaye started out. “Takes our money to get fatter.”

It went downhill from there.

Fortunately, the professional comics were on hand to keep the mirth coming.

Mostly. The evening almost came to blows when Manhattan-based jokester Jon Benjamin told an uproarious story about how Brooklyn is really like his little brother, looking up to him, asking for advice, watching him “f—k a supermodel.”

A heckler in the front row had heard enough.

“I don’t think you’re funny,” the heckler said.

Benjamin tried to win over the heckler, but was in danger of losing the entire room until the heckler’s wife said, “I think he’s funny.”

With his victory in hand, Benjamin then showed a riotous video of his encounter with “Brooklyn,” the mustached face of the borough that appeared to him one day.

Benjamin told “Brooklyn” that he wanted to help the battle against overdevelopment, but “Brooklyn” wouldn’t hear of it.

“We need the jobs,” the “Brooklyn” character told him. Eventually, Benjamin came around to “Brooklyn’s” position, even offering to sexually gratify him.

But the brief encounter ended when Benjamin noticed that “Brooklyn” was speaking with a Chicago accent.

“I grew up in Chicago before I moved to me,” “Brooklyn” said.