Once a year, I'll get
into it with a troll. That's like my Mardi Gras. I'll really, like,
I'll let it fly, you know? Like, I'll look,
but I'm also like, I mean, I'm not gonna
get involved or engaged, but once in a while, it is fun. Last year... And don't pretend to act like
you're a great person here. We're all mortified by this, but remember the baby
that got eaten by the alligator at Disney? We can all agree it's a tragedy. Comedy Central wanted me
to say that. I think it's kind of funny,
but... That's a joke.
It's a tragedy. I'm kidding, guys, but no. It's a terrible thing
that happened, and I'm going to tell a joke. I'm not just reporting
sad fucking news. So the baby got eaten
by the alligator at Disney. Is that where we left off? And it's a tragic thing,
and I was like, "That's terrible,"
and then two weeks went by, and I was like, "All right.
It's time. It's time. Of course it's terrible,
but let me fucking try." And I went on stage that night
at the Comedy Cellar, and I said, "I don't mean
to come off like a gun nut. I just think if that baby
was carrying a weapon, he'd still be with us.
That's how I feel." Not a great joke,
but it's timely. And there's a woman in the front
row, and she just goes, "No." And I was like "What?" She's like, "You can't
joke about that," which guarantees I will continue
to keep joking about it. If you know anything about
comedians, that's all we need. And she's like, "No, you can't." So I'm like, "Did you even watch
the baby's funeral on TV?" Which it wasn't on TV. They don't televise
baby funerals, but it is a pilot
I'm thinking of pitching. "Coming this fall to MTV
after 'Teen Mom.'" But it kind of escalated. I was like, "Did you even see
the baby's funeral on TV?" And she said, "No, I guess
I haven't seen the baby's funeral on TV." And I said, "Well, if you did,
you would've seen the mother come on through tears and say,
'See you later, alligator,'" which... She gets up and walks out. Her husband stays put, which is
how you know it's a good joke. And there's a part of me
that is excited by this because I know I'm the subject
of conversation in the car ride home. You know that she's like,
"He was terrible," and the husband is like, "I thought he had some
good stuff, you know?" "I thought he was bringing it
tonight, you know?" So they e-mailed
the Comedy Cellar, my home club, and the Comedy Cellar
forwards me the e-mail, "Ha ha ha" with
11 exclamation points. I counted.
I did count, and I will now read you
the best e-mail I ever got in my life. Here's how it opens --
"Okay, you want blunt? I'll be blunt." So you know some
bad shit is coming. It's never like,
"You want blunt? Wonderful evening.
Thank you." "A disgusting person,
Sam Morril, took the stage and spent the first few
minutes of his act disrespecting
the 2-year-old child who was murdered by
the alligator at Disney." I'm gonna say it. "Murdered" is a strange word
choice to use here, you know? That makes it sound like
the alligator was paid to do it, then afterwards
he went to a pay phone and was like, "It's done." And then he belched
and ran away in a trenchcoat. "I have never in my life
been so offended and repulsed by someone. I immediately left and stopped
to tell your staff why." This is my favorite part. "They followed me to make sure
my drinks were being paid." I mean, it's just so wonderfully
condescending that she's like, "I'm furious,"
and they're like, "Mm-hmm. Those Coronas
weren't free. Sorray." I should say that the comic
before me on this show, friend of mine,
she made, like, six Holocaust jokes, and this woman
wasn't bothered by any of them. She didn't even mention them
in the e-mail. She's acting like
they didn't even happen. I mean, some would call her
a denier, but, you know... Thank you.
Thank you. "I would expect all human beings
would be offended by a sicko making jokes about a
2-year-old baby's tragic death, saying his mother probably said,
'Later, gator' at his funeral." I mean, even in text form,
it kind of holds up, you know? Is it the gift
that keeps on giving? Yes, it is. This is a woman who's trying
to get me fired over "Later, gator,"
a play on words, which to me is
a bit of a crock, honestly.
[croc] It really is. No. "I have posted about this on every social media account
I own." She sounds fun. "I've asked everyone
I know to share it. The comedian himself
replied to me to say, 'Pretty strong act, huh?'" I did do that.
That is true. If you troll me, I will
occasionally troll back. I'm hosting this sports show, and I basically
got media trained because I think they saw me
as a "liability," and... Their words...but they were
reading some tweets. I don't know if you've
ever heard a gray-haired person read your Twitter. It is enlightening
to say the least. One of the tweets they actually
read out loud was, "Someone tweeted
at you here, Sam, that your comedy is a waste,
and you replied, 'Your father's jizz
was a waste.'" I'm like, "So you want me
to keep doing that or no?" She ends it by saying,
"What a complete and utter pathetic
excuse for a human. He doesn't deserve
to breathe the same air or live on the same planet as that precious
little boy's family. He can go fly a kite!" Which that last part,
it always gets me. I would love to fly a kite. It sounds like a pleasant
recreational activity. Kite-flying? She's very tightly wound. She could use a vacation.
I'm thinking Disney, but... The owner of the club
is a very good guy. I like him a lot,
and he e-mailed this woman. He said, "We feel bad you had
a rough night here. We'd like to make it up to you and maybe comp you and
your husband for a night out," and I hope they accept, and I think it'd be
a great idea for them to rebook me for the gig. Nothing would make me happier. They're sitting there like,
"Finally we can take our mind of that awful, awful man." "Your first comic coming to the
stage, Sam 'The Gator' Morill!"
