John Oliver - Daily Show Slash Fiction

  • Season 4 , Ep 1
  • 07/26/2013
  • Views: 85,412

John Oliver takes you on a voyage into the strangest 45 minutes of his life. (3:59)

called slash fiction?

Okay, okay.

Some of you.

The rest of you, sadly,are about to find out.

And I'll try and make this aspainless as possible.

Slash fiction is-- Isfor fans of particular TV

programs.

You know, if you like aprogram like Game of Thrones,

or CSI: Miami,or Breaking Bad.

Whatever you like.

People like to gather onlineand write stories,

fictional stories, aboutwhat would happen

if characters in those shows

had sex with each other.

It's basically pornographicfiction for fans of TV shows.

It doesn't matter, does it?

It doesn't matter,it's a niche.

It's a smallcommunity online.

They enjoy it.

It's not in your face.

It doesn't matter, does it?

It doesn't affect youin any way, does it?

Does it?

Does it?

Until it does.

Because I'm here to tell youthis evening, New York, that

it turns out there is sucha thing as

Daily Show slash fiction.

[AUDIENCE CHEERING]

How did I find this out?

Because I received an emailfrom a friend of mine in

England with a single weblink in it and a message that

simply read, "Click onthis and call me back

immediately."

And when I did, I voyagedinto the strangest 45 minutes

of my life.

Story after story, page afterintricately written page of

Jon Stewart and StephenColbert having sex with me.

And these were beautifullywritten stories.

I don't want to give youthe wrong impression.

It was not justbase pornography.

There was a lot of time andlyrical language spent in

describing the romanticismof each situation.

So, you know, a story mightbegin, you know, "Soft did

fall the snow outside the skilodge in Vermont, mounting up

inch upon snowy inch on thewooden windowsill, lit from

within by the glowof the roaring fire.

Around the fire did sit JonStewart and Stephen Colbert,

flushed from a long day'sskiing, toasting the

marshmallows on the dancingflames that surely they would

enjoy as s'moreslater that night.

In walked the butler."

Oh, who couldthat be, I wonder?

That is basically racist.

This is ignorance,is what that is.

That's just ignorance.

"Could I help you twogentlemen with anything?"

said the butler.

Exactly how they all speak.

"Anything I can do for you?"

Pish-posh,huffle-puffle, flip-flop.

"No, thank you, Mr. Butler,"said Stephen Colbert.

"But you can helpus with this."

Zip, thud.

And I'm going to stop there.

I'm going to stop there,because you don't need to

carry around in your headwhat I carry around

every day in mine.

The point is, who'd havethought that technology would

have reached a certain pointwhere I would find myself

alone in my office at work,

shouting out loud at myown computer screen,

"When do I at least getto have a go?"

Wait, what?

Before spendingthe rest of the day

trying to avoid JonStewart's direct gaze.

Don't look at me.

Don't look at me.

Don't-- Don't look at me.

It's different now.

Don't touch me.

It's-- Everythinghas changed now.

We are never goingskiing together.

Ever!

A ski trip is offthe cards for us now.

Are you ready for yourfirst acts this evening?

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