Seinfeld typically ran three or four simultaneous plots per episode, weaving them together until they converged — or conspicuously failed to converge — at the end. The A-plot gets the attention. The B-plot is where the show often did its most interesting work — smaller, stranger, less obligated to make sense.
Here are the ten funniest.
Kramer's idea for a coffee table book about coffee tables that folds into a coffee table runs as a background obsession across multiple episodes. Funny in proportion to how little time is spent on it: just enough to establish the idea, never enough to resolve it.
George's brief career as a hand model — his hands preserved perfectly by years of inactivity — is the B-plot of an episode whose A-plot is already very funny. George's hands ending the career is one of the show's most elegantly pointless conclusions.
Kramer gets a phone number one digit off from Moviefone and simply becomes Moviefone — answering calls until he is asked about films he does not know. His attempt to bluff through unfamiliar titles is the B-plot highlight of an already excellent episode.
George builds a sleeping compartment under his desk at the Yankees — complete with alarm clock and blanket. The B-plot is the construction, maintenance, and eventual exposure of this infrastructure, with each discovery by Steinbrenner's staff more satisfying than the last.
Newman goes on an all-meat diet supervised by Kramer to qualify for his Hawaii transfer. Kramer as personal trainer, Newman as reluctant athlete, and the specific comedy of a man whose dream requires him to temporarily stop doing what he most loves.
A tiny B-plot in The Dog: Elaine gets the hiccups. The hiccups become the background rhythm of every scene, getting funnier with each recurrence because the situation is already unbearable. Comedy through accumulation.
Kramer sues a coffee company after burning himself — a parody of the McDonald's hot coffee lawsuit. Jackie Chiles appears for the first time, introducing one of the show's finest recurring characters through a premise that is both genuine parody and real exploration of personal injury litigation.
George's confession that he would drape himself in velvet if socially acceptable — the comedic peak of a B-plot that consists almost entirely of conversation. He and Jerry are waiting for a wine shop to open. The conversation is some of the show's finest writing about want: specific, honest, and completely untethered from any practical outcome.
Uncle Leo begins shoplifting in old age, justifying it as an entitlement of the elderly. Jerry is horrified. Leo is serene. A miniature comedy of generational difference ending with Leo being caught and blaming anti-Semitism — the only possible ending.
Kramer finds the set of The Merv Griffin Show in a dumpster, installs it in his apartment, and begins conducting interviews. The B-plot runs underneath the main episode with increasing surrealism — guests arrive, music plays, Kramer introduces segments. It simply happens. That is its comedy.