Original subtitles

Ladies and gentlemen, please welcome to the stage Mr.

Daniel Sloan!

Austin, how are you doing? Are you well?

Thank you so much for coming along.

It's always good just to see so many people.

And for those of you that have seen me before, seen my stand -up, thank you

much for coming along.

And for those of you that haven't seen my stand -up before, good luck.

It might not be for you.

Statistically, it isn't.

I always like people that go to see comedy that they've never seen before.

just taking a gamble, going to see someone, just like, yeah, I'm going to

along and laugh.

I'm always curious as to the reasons why. Why you picked someone, why you

me. And the reason you'll be here if you've never seen me before is because

friend is a big fan of mine.

And they have promised you that I am fucking excellent.

For the past two weeks, you've been listening to them doing shit versions of

jokes.

Just being like, yeah, I mean, I guess that sounds okay.

There's a lot of pressure riding on your friend right now.

I can destroy your friendship in the next hour quite easily.

Not even by doing much, by doing literally nothing.

I just stand here and just slowly start masturbating.

Louis C .K. style, just real small, real good.

Making eye contact with some of you, skipping over others.

Those of you that I skip over, relieved at first, but when I make eye contact

with other people, slightly upset.

And that plays on your mind. You're like, I know I shouldn't care, but he

at literally everyone else. I just want to know what's up. I want to know what's

up. What's his fucking problem?

And the whole time your friend will just be like, I swear to God, he doesn't

normally do this.

This is never the, this is always the show.

This is what they wanted you to see.

If you've been dragged here, also your friend that's the fan of mine, they're

not going to be watching me for the whole show. They're going to be watching

watching me to see if you pass their little friend test.

You survive another day.

It's fucking nice to be back in America while it's still here.

It's good fun, isn't it?

Come out and visit the dojos.

It's great.

Love coming out here. It's fucking insane. In a good way. Don't mean that

negative way. Well, I think it's excellent. I really do. I love coming to

country. Just because it's the only country I watch the news in.

I don't watch the news in Scotland because there's nine of us.

I'll just ask my mum what's up. She'll let me know. She knows everyone.

Most of the time the news in Scotland is just, guess what America did?

I don't think you just have a problem with fake news over here. I think the

problem you have is you've just got too much news.

You've got so many 24 -hour news stations.

Guys, not that much stuff's happening.

In the rest of the world, when nothing happens, the newscaster's just like, mm

-mm.

And we move on with life. You just fill your head with irrelevant information.

Like, last time I was here, a man shot two people to death with a gun and they

died. And I'm going to put my career on the line and say that I think that is a

dick move.

I'll be brave. I'll say what no one else is willing to say. It's a dick move.

He went to prison for 25 years.

That's the full story. I gave you all of the information there in less than five

seconds.

45 fucking minutes.

I watched this newscaster get updates that were not updates.

They added no more relevant information to the story.

It's just in breaking news, the man who murdered the two people was described by

his neighbours as a marijuana -smoking porn hoarder.

Don't make me like him.

Those are very mixed signals.

He just said he was a dick. Now he sounds cool.

No, I'm just like, well, were they like dealing in porn?

I feel like if you're going to give me any relevant information about people in

that story, why not give me a relevant information on those two people that

murdered? The innocents. Let me know what they were like as human beings so

I can work out if I care that they're dead.

Because I might not.

They might have been shit.

Do you think only good people get murdered?

No!

Sometimes they accidentally get a cunt, right?

And it's up for me to decide whether I'm sad.

You don't tell me I'm sad. You give me information and I'll work out how it

makes me feel I'm a big boy.

I wanted to be like this just in. One of the men who was murdered was frequently

seen by his neighbours purchasing orange juice that had pulp in it.

Good.

Get his parents too, he learned it from somewhere.

Good riddance, I say.

How dare he?

How dare he call orange juice with pulp in it juice?

It's not juice.

It's not juice if you have to chew it.

Who chews juice? Nobody chews juice. You don't drink food, you don't chew juice.

Nobody chews juice. If you're not on board with this routine, by the way,

this for five minutes.

I rely on nothing other than the fact that who -choose -juice sounds funny in

silly little accent.

At the end of the show, I cash in on your racism by selling shirts. They say

-choose -juice, and on the back of them it says, I do because I'm a fuckhead.

Listen, lumps in a drink are unacceptable.

If there were lumps in any other drink, you would be seething.

Get a glass of wine. Oh, I love a glass of wine. This is bloody lovely. The fuck

we saying this?

Why do I need a toothpick after a liquid?

Apples are a fruit. They make a juice. Is there pulp in apple juice? No. Apple

juice has its shit together.

Pineapples, also a fruit, I'm told. They make a juice.

Is there pulp in pineapple juice? No.

Pineapple juice has its fucking shit together, right? And I can see a lot of

very confused by the start of the show.

Being like, fucking what is... He's got some very strong opinions on pulp.

I reckon, from what I've gathered so far, I reckon Floss hates smoothies.

Wrong.

I love smoothies. Smoothies are delicious, please.

And that's not a double standard, by the way, because smoothies are honest

within their title. They're like, well, it's smoothie.

That's fine.

That is correctly labelled as far as I'm concerned. That's not false

advertising.

But you've called popular artists just juices. It's not just that you have to

chew it. No!

In the interest of fair and reasonable debate, who here prefers orange juice

with poppy nuts? Take your hands up. Not going to shout at you. Not abusive.

What's your name, sir?

Angel? Of course it fucking is.

Are you from Austin?

Where are you from, sir?

Chicago? Oh, cool. What brings you down here?

Me? You came all the way. I'm in Chicago in like two weeks, buddy.

That's amazing. Thank you so much for coming, Angel. You are indeed an angel

coming.

Hello, Angel.

We live in a world now that's a little bit... too polarized. We exist now in a

world where if you disagree with someone on one thing, you tend to hate them,

regardless of what views they have towards other things, views that you

actually share. I think it's a very stupid way to live your life, and I

it's going to be the fall of Western civilization.

So, I'm going to try and understand where you're coming from, I'll then

my position, and you'll naturally agree with me, because I have a microphone,

punchlines, and I've set you up to fail.

So just so I can understand where you're coming from, Angel, Angel, if you want

the taste of orange, right, with the experience of pulp,

Have a fucking orange.

Like, you don't want orange juice. You want orange, and they already do those.

They're called orange juice, right? Now, Angel, whatever you drink in the

privacy of your own home, that's absolutely fine with. But here's my

with you and your people, okay?

Let's say I get drunk tonight, as I fully intend to do. These are gin and

tonics. My mother didn't raise a bitch.

After the show, you see me, I'm not, I'll be honest with you, I'm not

the gin and tonics well. The Texas sun gets to me, I'm just, I'm too

I'm incoherent, I'm wandering the streets. You're a lovely man, you know

no place for a drunken Scotsman. You take me back to your hotel, you stick me

the spare bed, you kiss my forehead goodnight. Bit weird, I'm fine with it.

Next morning you wake up, you're like, Daniel, I imagine you're kind of

hungover, I've got some juice, do you want some juice? I'm like, oh, juice

within the spot, what kind of juice?

Oh, Daniel, it's orange juice. Oh, angel, you are an angel.

Orange juice would hit the spot. At that point, Angel, do you specify to me that

it had pulp in it?

No, you fucking don't, do you? Because you're a bag of shit, right?

Just like the rest of you pop -loving fucks.

You never tell us innocent civilians what you intend to do. You just expect

to join in with your kinky fucking fetish.

It is unforgivable. It is a dog act. You go downstairs with the promise of

refreshment and you come back up with this tangerine miscarriage of lies.

Giving someone pulpy orange juice without telling them that it's got pulp

is the equivalent to shoving your finger up someone's ass during sex.

Okay?

Some people enjoy it at first!

All I'm trying to say is, I think some people deserve to die.

And I really, I really do mean that.

Don't get me wrong. Death is bad most of the time. Most of the time death is

awful. 60, 65 % of the time death is gah.

But can we admit that occasionally death is mm.

Put on with this election.

Really, every death has devastated you. You've never secretly enjoyed one of

them.

One celebrity or politician you're never particularly aligned with.

They eventually die and no part of your soul goes... And I can feel some of you

pulling back. And I understand why you're pulling back. Because that

there, it goes against your core values. But let me sort of remind you that none

of you were born with core values.

They were all lied into you. Okay?

You were all raised with the same lie I was raised with. Every life is precious.

Every life is a miracle.

No.

No, no, no.

Life is not precious. You can make it accidentally.

How precious can that be?

I've never accidentally made a watch.

Life's a miracle. Okay. What bit?

Sincerely, Wapit. How is it made?

Do you know how you were made?

Your dad came in your mum.

That's only a miracle if she's hideous.

What a horrible thing for you to say about your own mother.

And your mum didn't come because your dad's bad at it.

Some of you still disagree. You'll be sad. They'll be like, no, Daniel, no,

that's not true. No, I value all life on this planet. No, you don't. Nobody

values all life on this planet, right? And I can prove it to you. Let's say I

give you a magical list. There's 100 blank spaces on this list. You write

the names of any 100 people. The second you write down their name, they will die

instantly and painlessly, and it will never be traced back to you.

I give you this list.

Can you honestly tell me you do not think that you have the capabilities to

the world a slightly better place?

I just watched 900 of you go.

I mean, off the top of my head.

I could give you sex.

Let's not even get political. It's too fucking easy in this day and age to

a flag in the sand and have half the people clap about where you chose to put

your flag in the sand. Let's keep politics out of it. And let's just go,

just people that you don't deserve to be.

Right? This list doesn't exist, and it's never going to exist, okay? And if it

did exist, I wouldn't share it with you. I've got enemies, mainly in Indiana.

They know what they did.

I'm just saying, when you're walking around the shops, you can't listen to

podcast anymore. Just have a little hypothetical genocide.

Pass the time.

Right? Just walking around being like, Martin Shkreli, he needs to go.

That farmer bro, he needs to die, he's a bad egg. He's on my list.

Alex Jones, he's just a bad man. He lies, he spreads hate, they'll probably

rid of him. And then somebody cuts in front of you and you're like, and you.

99 for society, 1 for me.

Understand, I do not think you should be allowed to kill someone and I do not

think the government should be allowed to kill someone. I'm just saying that

sometimes there are people who come onto the planet and they leave the world a

worse place than when they arrived and they did it intentionally.

All I'm saying is when these people eventually cop it, get the fuck in.

it.

That's it.

Now I get called sociopath a lot.

I've been called a sociopath roughly 5 ,000 times in the last six months. I

understand where those allegations came from. I did a special that has now

resulted in about 40 ,000 couples breaking up and over 100 divorces.

Did you get a divorce because of my show?

Fucking get in, sir. Well done.

And some people have the audacity to suggest I'm mug about those stats.

I am very happy. I broke up sad relationships, bad relationships, static

relationships, toxic relationships. I didn't break up any positive

relationships. How can I prove that? Because if a 28 -year -old can break up

your relationship with a joke, it wasn't that fucking strong in the first place.

Jigsaw was originally meant as a love letter to single people. Just let you

that there's nothing wrong.

being seen as a perfectly normal thing. It just happens to resonate with a lot

of people and make good decisions for themselves.

And none of it was true love. I love true love. I'm not a fucking sceptic

it comes to that shit. I'm a proper romantic. I know it's fucking real.

Because I think of my parents, man.

30 years they've been married. To this day, disgustingly in love with each

other. And I know it's real love because at least once a month my mum will phone

me up randomly out of the blue and she'll be like, I'm gonna fucking kill

And every month she doesn't.

True love.

You've not seen true love until you've seen your mum hurt herself and your dad

go... He obviously checks, but he's like, are you okay?

I've been called a sociopath well before I started stand -up, in all honesty,

and I have a general rule for myself.

If more than five people accuse you of being something, have a check.

It's unlikely that they had a meeting.

So I did some research, right? There are 15 personality traits that define a

sociopath. If you have 10 or more of these personality traits, you are a

sociopath. The average human being will have three of these personality traits.

I have seven.

Eight if I'm hungover.

Not enough to be concerning, but enough to be concerning.

I want to think back to the first time I was called a sociopath to see if I

remembered. And I do because, you know, you never forget your first.

First time I was called a sociopath, I was eight years old.

Yeah, it's a bit young.

It wasn't by a doctor or anything like a scientist or psychologist. It was by my

gran.

Which is worse.

Now, there is context for this. I was strangling her to death.

And they were her last words. No.

My gran and grandad, they own a caravan, which is like a shitty trailer that

middle class people live with in the UK.

And it's like a holiday thing. They own a caravan and it's in a place called

Dornach in the north of Scotland. And every summer, my grandparents would

their grandchildren up to spend a week in this caravan because they're old and

they've forgotten what children enjoy.

You know that age that your grandparents get to where they invite you to shit

things and you have to go because they'll die soon.

And your parents don't want your last words to them to be, No!

And then 20 years later they're still alive and you're like, you fucking

assholes. God damn it.

Well played, vegan.

Well played. You win this one.

So my gran's up there, right? I'm outside.

She's enjoying this work, son.

And she's reading Reader's Digest. Now, in this particular issue of Reader's

Digest is a sociopath test.

This psychologist claims that he's come up with a story that has a question at

the end. And he alleges that people who are sociopaths will get the answer to

this question instantly.

But people who are not sociopathic will not get the question right. Not only

will they not get it right, they'll be confused by the question. It won't make

any sense to them. My gran's obsessed with the idea of this.

She's desperate to know if she's a sociopath.

She's not.

That's the first sign of knowing.

Right? She's the nicest woman I've ever met. I'm 28 years old. She still blows

on my soup if she thinks it's too hot.

Yeah, she's a sweetheart.

She's racist as fuck. But despite that, she's, you know.

My grad's sitting there. Now, I didn't know what she was doing at the time. I

just know that she failed the sociopath test. She never told me that she failed

it. I just remember her sitting there being like, oh, sociopath test. Being

quiet for five minutes and then going, no.

Which is arguably the most sociopathic thing she's ever fucking done.

But now she knows the secret of who's a sociopath. She wants to see who she

knows that's slipped under the radar.

My mum walks into the caravan.

Her daughter -in -law.

She's always been suspicious.

She wants to know if my mum's a sociopath. Not a chance. Not a chance.

Sloss is a sociopath.

One of the kindest, most empathetic people I know. Also a viciously

woman. Outsourced by the UN because she's one of the leading experts in the

world on mercury emissions and greenhouse gases. This does not mean,

that she is not stupidly fucking naive.

I forget that me and my mother have lived very different lives. Like, she's

never done drugs and I'm a fan.

She's so naive to the world of drugs, I forget how innocent she is. When I was

17 years old, I just started doing stand -up comedy.

So the nights I wasn't gigging, my friends would come round to my house,

wait until my mum and dad went to sleep, and then while they were asleep, we'd

sneak out in the back garden and we'd smoke as much marijuana as we possibly

could. But we didn't want to get caught, right? Because marijuana is still very,

very illegal in Scotland.

Fortunately, we were 17 years old, and therefore, geniuses.

So we decided that before we came in, we'd just douse ourselves in aerosol,

deodorant cans, just all the time. Because that's a normal thing that

outside to do.

Like, as if four boys were going to go out in the back garden and then come

in smelling like DJs.

And my mum and dad were going to be like, oh, they went outside to do, yeah,

that makes sense, that makes sense.

Fuck the environment.

Now, one morning, after a night of fucking smoking weed, I come downstairs

my mum's in the kitchen. Now, I'm used to seeing her at home. That's where her

office is. I'm not used to seeing her furious, though. I walk into the

She just looks at me. She's like, I'm very, very disappointed in you.

And I'm like, I'm a 17 -year -old comedian. I'm very aware of that.

What? No, bitch. Didn't say that. I would never dare say that to my mother.

I was like, why, Mummy Bear? What's wrong? Who hurt you?

She goes, guess what I found in the garden?

And that annoyed me.

Mothers will never directly accuse you of the thing that they know you've done.

They'll just vaguely accuse you of something in a general direction and

run towards the admission with open arms because they think it proves that

you're a good person. It's a very stupid line of inquiry, and I know it's a

stupid line of inquiry because it doesn't exist anywhere in the world

mothers. You've never heard... Mr Smith, open up, it's the police!

Mr. Smith, I can see you in there. Come to the front door. Okay, he's coming.

Hi,

Mr. Smith. Me and my partner just have a couple of questions for you, if you

don't mind.

Guess whose body we found in the river?

Oh, was it that guy who I murdered?

Oh, fuck. Oh, fuck. Oh, fuck.

Oh, how did you get me to do that? Oh, you got me, Officer Mum, you fucking

moron.

what I found in the garden.

Dog shit.

She didn't say anything. She goes into her back pocket. She brings out an empty

can of deodorant.

Sticks it on the table.

And I'm like, fuck.

I've been rumbled. I'm terrified that I'm about to be in trouble.

But I am also secretly impressed by my mother's levels of deduction.

She's worked out I'm a drug addict from an empty can of aerosol.

I can't fathom that level of intelligence.

I'm sat there looking at this checkmate piece, trying to work out how I'm out of

the game already.

Just so fucking confused. Trying to fathom that level of intelligence.

She mistakes my silence for me being like, I'm going to play it cool.

I don't know what this is. I have no idea what this is.

She sees me and she gets more angry. She's like, fine, I'll say it. I'll say

I'll say it. This is how naive my mother is. I'll say it. You and your friends

have been sniffing deodorant cans.

You're a fucking moron.

She's too precious for this world. Not a chance she's passing the sociopath

test. Sure enough, my gran answered the question. My mum's got no idea.

Then my dad walks in.

Gran, gran.

She wants to know if her son's a sociopath.

He could be.

He's definitely got more of the personality traits of my mother,

than me. My father's not a violent man in any way, shape or form, but he is

incredibly dangerous.

My dad is the only man I know of that is banned from the British version of the

show BattleBots.

You know BattleBots where the robots fight each other? It's called Robot Wars

the UK. My father's banned from that show. Why?

Because he went on it two years in a row, his robot got destroyed, he then

snapped, locked himself in a basement for six months, and then invented a

that the BBC described as legally a weapon.

He's... He's also very coldly analytical. His sense of humour is one

funniest, but... I don't want to say cruel, but... Right, here's an example.

When my mother was diagnosed with my youngest brother, she... I don't like...

She still has him. It's very serious.

She was about eight months pregnant, right? It's her fourth child. And one

my dad comes home from work. He's not a bad husband. He's just occasionally a

bit of an idiot and a bit lazy. He comes in the house. He lies down on the

couch. And my mum's like, in what fucking world? In what world is this how

you're spending your evening?

Martin, I'm eight months pregnant. There are some things I physically could no

longer do around the house because of my size. For example, the dishes. I could

no longer get into the sink to do the dishes because there's human life in the

way. Can you please just try and make this last month a little bit easier for

me? That night, while she slept, my dad welded a semicircle into the sink

so she could get in to do the dishes.

That's fucking sociopathic.

Much to my surprise and my father's dismay, when my gran asked him the

he didn't know the answer. He was annoyed at himself. He's a problem

He's normally very good at these sort of riddles. He said, I can't believe it. I

don't know. Ask me again. Ask me again. Ask me again.

Couldn't get it. They all sat around discussing what the possible answer to

sociopath test is.

Apparently, at that point, an eight -year -old me turned around and got the

answer imminently.

Now I will ask you the question. If you think you know the answer, please stick

your hand up, don't shout out. The reason I want you to stick your hand up

instead of shouting is because for those of you that get this question right,

and it's going to be roughly 20 % of you, this is going to seem like the most

obvious answer in the world to you.

The second I ask the question, you're going to go, oh, fucking, yeah,

Really look around and notice how little other people get this question right.

And for those of you that don't get the question right, don't worry, just look

at how many sociopaths you know.

Here it is. A woman is attending her mother's funeral.

While at the wake, she meets a man who she's never met before. He's nice. He's

charming. Despite the situation, he actually manages to make her laugh. She

really enjoys the company.

But she's got to go say goodbye to guests as they're leaving, say hello to

guests as they're arriving, take the flowers, put them somewhere safe so they

longer wilt.

45 minutes later, she finally gets a little breather, a moment of respite,

she wants to strike up a conversation with this affable, handsome, charming

again. But when she looks around, she can't find him anywhere. He's gone, and

she's devastated.

So the next day, she murders her sister.

Why?

Straight away, good, good, good, good, good.

What's your name in the front row there?

Ashley. Why does she murder her sister, Ashley?

So she can see the man again? It's absolutely spot on. Now, for those of

still too innocent to understand what the fuck just happened, allow me to

explain. The one thing she wants to see is the man.

The circumstances that she met the man under was a family funeral.

Therefore, he must be a family friend.

So if she wants to bump into him, all she has to do is create another family

funeral, and logically he'll attend that one too, where she can bump into him

and rekindle the romance.

Sociopath.

Do you think you're a sociopath, Ashley?

Hmm?

You question it. That's a very good sign that you're not, by the way.

For anyone that got the question right, please do not have an existential

crisis. The test is horseshit.

It's not a valid test. It was in the Reader's Digest. There isn't a shred of

truth behind it. But my parents and my grandparents didn't know this at the

time. All they knew was that if you got the question right, you were an

sociopath, and they'd been stuck in it for 45 minutes, and then an eight -year

-old me turns around and just goes, it's so she can see the man who she likes

again. And my grandma was like, ah!

I was too young to know what the word sociopath meant. All I knew is that I

wasn't allowed a dog for 10 years.

But that question really stuck with me, man. I was like, why did I get that

question right and why did my family not? Why did Ashley get this question

and why did the rest of us not?

If it's not sociopathy, which it categorically is, then what's the

how our brains work? And I've worked out.

Depends on whether you're a logical or an emotional person.

If you look at that question and you take away empathy and sympathy and all

those other things that do not matter, and you look at that question with cold

hard logic, it's very easy to work out. What does she want? The man. How does

she meet the man? Family funeral. How do you meet him again?

Recreate the circumstances. Very coldly logical all the way through. Very

simple. That's what I've worked out about myself.

I value logic over emotion.

And the reason I value logic over emotion is because that is logical.

And the people who get upset by that tend to be emotional.

Now, don't get me wrong, emotional people. I think you're beautiful. I

you're sweet. I think you're kind. And I think you're pure. But never forget how

utterly fucking pointless you are to the human race. Okay?

You are the bane of every logical person's existence with your love of

your need of hugs.

As a society, we have to go as slow as our slowest member and that's every one

of you fuckers crying over cats.

You are a burden and a nuisance to our progression.

Now to the emotional people currently getting upset by this routine, allow me

remind you, I haven't specified who you are. You just know who you are and

you're currently getting upset about it because that's all you're fucking good

at.

You are never happier than when you are the victim. But why would you say that?

Because you're like this.

You're the end of reason. You're the end of rational debate. And you are the

reason why Trump is president.

It is on you.

It is on you.

Of course you're not entirely... Well,

I mean, that's...

Well, that's it. Let's not fucking... Aye, aye, aye, aye, aye, aye, aye, aye,

aye, aye, aye, aye.

First of all, none of this is going in the special.

You, on the other hand, can get to fuck.

Fourth right can't... Oh, Jesus Christ. Here we go.

We'll get the one at the top. I think it's fair to throw a Nazi out. That

like a rational thing.

I've got it. I've got it. Hey, hey. In his defense, I do look pretty fucking

Aryan. Okay?

But, uh, yeah.

I don't understand how you attend... Shh! You can be quiet, too.

I don't understand how you thought this was the show for you.

I can't! I can't!

I just can't imagine just sitting at home, just watching Netflix, being like,

fucking, God, this guy hates relationships.

I bet he also hates the Jews.

Like, that's, how does you, how does your fucking mind work?

Jesus fucking Christ, yeah.

What an interesting gig.

Thought so highly emotional. Jesus Christ, what a bitch. Jesus.

So impassioned.

You made a lot of people's lists this

evening, sir.

Emotional people, right? I think you're great. Most of my friends are emotional.

I know you're kind, I know you're pure, but it's just, you know, you're good for

some things. Of course you are. Of course you are. You're good for poetry.

The lowest form of art that currently exists.

And I say that as a comedian.

You're also good at fucking. I'll give you that, emotional people. You are

very good at fucking. Because for you it's not fucking, it's making love.

If there's eye contact, it's old school, you know their name, I respect it.

Never have sex with a logical person, we're too coldly analytical about the

whole process, just... Linda, I've read two books on this

subject. If you're not coming, it's because you're broken, okay?

Oh, here come the tears.

Also understand, when I say emotional, I do not mean having emotions. Having

emotions doesn't make you emotional. That makes you a human being. We all

emotions. I have emotions.

Emotional people are the ones that do not keep control of their emotions. They

brag about the lack of control they have over them. I lost my shit. I went

mental. Go to jail.

If I bragged about losing control of my car with the same advantage that you

brag about losing control of your emotions, I would rightfully be never

to drive again. There is nothing impressive, nor endearing about not

control of your emotions. It is pathetic and it is weak. Okay, that was so

theopathic.

Understand, I do not think crying is weak. I'm not going to be one of these

that tells you, I'd be like, no, crying's for the weak. Crying's the

Crying is the tits. If you don't do it enough, I recommend you do. It's like

bleeding a radiator.

You just get that fucking stress out from time to time. Sometimes I will stop

myself from crying. Of course I will. Not because I think it's weak, but just

because I don't think it'll logically help the situation I'm in. Right? I

know if you've ever been in a stressful situation with a bunch of friends.

You're all trying to get through this horrible moment. Then one of your

gets so stressed that they start crying and you're like, yeah, that'll fucking

help.

This is excellent. Now I have two problems.

In that moment, I'll be the one to suck it up, nominate myself.

To be the one, I'd be like, right, I'll just not cry. And I know that's not

healthy. Balling up your feelings is not good. That's why, if I ever have to

prevent myself from crying, I will force myself to cry.

I'll get into bed. I strongly recommend you do this.

Just do it once a month. See if it works for you. It's better than most forms of

meditation. Two balls of wine. Get into bed. Drink one of them in under 45

minutes. Then, watch YouTube videos of soldiers coming home to their dogs.

And I promise you...

Oh, it's just... If that doesn't get you crying, deaf babies being given hearing

aids.

Or if that one doesn't go... I don't know if you know what Enchroma glasses

but basically, there's... Colourblind people can't see colour, hence the name.

And so they're given these glasses, which means they can see in colour for

first time. It'll be a Friday night, all of my friends are out doing cocaine,

and I'm alone in bed being like, he didn't know the colour of his daughter's

eyes.

That's why I don't like being left wing a lot of the time, man. In all honesty.

Because we're the emotional ones. I just fucking hate my teammates.

A lot of the time I do wish I was right wing. I mean, not that fucking right

wing.

You know, just the normal right wing.

Looks so easy.

Because the right wing don't really care how right wing you are. They're just

happy you joined in.

Do you love Trump?

Yeah, I love Trump.

Do you hate abortion?

Yeah, I hate abortion.

Do you hate the gays?

Oh, not really.

You'll learn. That's it.

You're still part of the team. Here's your hat. Who gives a shit?

If you are not as left -wing as the left -wing person you were talking to, you

are the enemy, man.

They say they're being like, are you anti -Trump? Yeah, I'm anti -Trump. Are

pro -choice? Yeah, I'm pro -choice. Are you pro -LGBTQ? Yes, I'm pro -LGBTQ. Are

you anti -racist? Yes, I'm anti -racist. Are you a vegan?

No? Then why don't you go join the rest of the fucking Nazis?

Thank you.

It's exhausting.

Being left wing has just turned into a competition of who is the most woke. And

I'm bored of the game, man.

It's like, being left wing, it's kind of like being in the fucking trenches,

right? And the enemy, they outnumber you. There's more of them. They're

organised. And they're winning. And you're just sat there in the trenches

oh my god, oh my god, they outnumber our god. How the hell are we going to beat

these cunts?

Why did you say cunts?

What?

It's just interesting that you chose to say cunts.

I don't think that's important right now!

When will it be important? When this is done!

Let's do it when this is done!

It's real fucking Nazi.

Like.

I'll tell you what, Austin, you've not disappointed.

You've absolutely, by now, and... Just, I'll fucking

pause the stand -up for a bit, right? To the right -wing people that I know in

this room, I know that cunt doesn't fucking represent you. I know he

right? I know he doesn't, right?

And also, if you're right -wing, I'm genuinely glad you're here. I'm fucking

sick of this divide getting bigger and bigger. Thank you for coming to see a

comedian that you primarily disagree with. I respect it greatly.

I really do. Thank you.

And to the lefties, let's get them! No, no, no.

But I get it, man. Look, most of my friends, not all of them, but most of my

friends are fucking left wing. And they're the ones that annoy me more.

And I'm on their team. I agree with them on most of the fucking things. But just

the smarkness of every single moment of like, you could be better. Oh, come on.

A couple of months ago my television broke. I got quite upset about that

I like my TV. It's what I watch TV on.

And I was complaining to one of my friends. I was just having a little bit

moan. I was like, oh man, my TV broke.

I'm going away so I can't buy a new one. It's going to cost money. I can't

fucking afford it right now.

It's a bit annoying.

My friend was like, wow, Daniel.

Your TV's broken.

It's got you this upset.

Wow, that's such a first world problem.

This is your first world problem. You know there are kids in Syria who don't

even have TVs.

They don't even have running water and you're complaining about your TV being

broken. It's not that bad when you think about it. And the grand scheme of

things, when you put things into perspective, things could be a lot

couldn't they?

Fuck off.

Just because bad things happen at other places doesn't mean I don't get to have

a concept of badness, man.

Right? You don't get to put, that's not how perspective works.

Right? Otherwise I could just walk around kicking people in the balls and

holding up a picture of 9 -11 being like, eh? Eh?

Could be worse.

Could be worse.

Could be much worse.

Huh?

Perspective! Because that's the thing. You only put my favourite emotions into

perspective. Right? You only put sadness and anger.

You never put happiness into perspective, do you?

Because you understand that would be a shitty thing to do.

Let's say you're a good person. You're a better person than I. You're out

volunteering in one of these war -torn places.

You're building schools.

You're trying to be the change you want to see in the world. One of the kids

runs up to you and they're like, Sebastian, Sebastian!

Because your name's Sebastian.

UNICEF dropped by.

UNICEF dropped by. They dropped off food and they dropped off water and they

dropped off medicine. But you know what else they dropped off? Did you know what

else they dropped off, Sebastian? They dropped off a football. My very own

football. We used to have to play with a bag made of other bags, but now I get

to play with this football and I can't wait. I'm going to play with my friends

every single day and I'm going to become better than Messi and Ronaldo combined.

I'm so happy now that I've got this football.

Put his happiness into perspective.

Be like, well there.

Small Syrian child with a name I'm not willing to improvise.

That is a very nice football.

But there are kids in Edinburgh who have Xboxes.

So in the grand scheme of things, you're not actually that happy,

are you?

That is such third world happiness right there.

And it's coming across a little bit smug.

A little bit smug.

I've got a dad.

Then again, sometimes...

Sometimes my friends in the left, they come up with campaigns that are so easy

to support.

Free the nipple. In.

I don't need to hear any more. I'm straight in. Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah.

That one.

This brings me over to an interesting point. Now, women, I'm going to ask you

question here. If you do not feel comfortable answering this question,

because of the situation we're in, do not.

answer. I respect your right to privacy, but I promise you, you're not the

punchline of the joke if you answer truthfully and also will help the

So, to the women in the room, give me a cheer on the count of three if at any

point in your life you've ever sent a nude to a partner or an ex -partner.

two, three.

Amazing. Lovely.

Thank you very much for cheering, but also thank you very much for doing it.

I don't know if you've ever been thanked before, but fucking yes.

It's such a nice thing to do. What a kind thing.

What a kind thing to do for just another person. It's just good on you.

I don't know when you do it.

I don't know what mindset you have to get yourself into to send, in my head,

what you do.

It's when you get out of the bath or the shower and you've got your towel

wrapped around your teeth and you've got your hair up in that stupid fucking

thing.

You run past the mirror and it's a bit steamy, but not too steamy. And you're

just like... Oh,

my God.

I look dead sexy.

I look so natural.

Do you know who'd appreciate a picture of this? My loving partner, who I love

very much.

Click, send.

Saying, that's a beautiful thing. There's nothing wrong with it.

Now, to all the women who didn't hear that question, don't worry. I'm sure

you're good partners in other ways.

You sound fun.

I know your type exactly.

Here's your birthday blowjob. Oh, yay.

Oh, fucking hope it's a toothy one.

Oh, sure enough.

Sure enough, there it is.

Why not?

Why not get your molars involved in the most sensitive part of my body?

Happy birthday to me.

Tap you on the head when I come. I'll tap you on the head when I stop

bleeding. How about that?

It's a horrible joke.

But it gets a laugh, so I'll keep doing it.

Now, in the interest of fairness, men in the room.

I would like a cheer on the count of three if you have ever sent a dick pic.

Now, I understand if you don't want to be honest, right? But the ladies were

honest, that's why I asked them first, and now you have to be welcome to

equality.

Men in the room.

My brothers, give me a cheer on the count of three if you've ever sent a

pic. One, two, three.

Fuck yeah.

That was so manly. The caveman in my brain was like, where's the fuck,

the... No, no, no, no.

To the men who cheered there, my brothers, I will get back to you in a

To the men who didn't cheer, you fucking liars.

You absolute, full of shit, fucking liars.

I know exactly what that silence is, right? You have sent dick pics, but not

the person you're currently sat beside.

That is the silence of shit.

Get rid of that shame, boys. There's nothing wrong with sending dick pics,

There's nothing wrong with sending dick pics. It's a perfectly normal, natural

thing to do. You like a girl, you send her a picture of your dick. Bish, bash,

bosh. Job's done. Now she's seen your dick.

Everyone's a winner. There's nothing wrong with sending a picture of your

As long as the following criteria is met.

The person that you send a picture of your dick to said the word, send me

a picture.

Off you're dead.

Now, to the men in the room right now who are sat there being like, Jesus

Christ, Floss.

What an easy point to make.

What a pandering point to just get all of the women on your side, Floss. Oh my

God. Oh my God, Floss. Two things. One, duh.

The second of all, I'm glad you think I'm pandering because you thinking that

I'm pandering there allows me to realize that you don't send unsolicited dick

pics because it's an alien concept to you, right? So you're just like, if I

don't do it, no one else do it. Boys, it happens a lot.

It happens much more than you'd expect. And I know this because I've got female

friends and every time I go to use their phone, I can't lift them up because

there's so many dick pics weighing this fucking thing down.

It happens so much.

And the thing is, like, normally when people do shitty things, even though I

know the shitty thing's evil, I understand the logic behind doing it.

Like, I know thieving is wrong, but I can understand being in a position where

you feel that you have to deal to survive.

I understand that murder is wrong, but I've also met people who say things like

it's pronounced Barthelona. Like, I understand the concept of murder in

But when it comes to sending unsolicited dick pics, I don't get it, man.

I don't understand that logic of, she'll fucking love this.

She didn't ask for it. You're like, surprise.

To me, sending an unsolicited dick pic is the equivalent of walking up to a

stranger's house and just sticking your dick through their letterbox.

What? What?

But they might suck it.

But they might suck it.

How am I meant to know if they'll suck it unless I give them the option to suck

it? If there was another way, I'd do it!

Fourth wall breaking here, just going to be honest with you. I've done that joke

quite a few times. And it goes down very well in the UK, right? But it's never

really fully translated here in the States. And it's always bothered me,

I've always been very good at being able to bring jokes across the pond and

translate them well. So I'm like, why does this not work as well in America?

And then I realised, you don't have letterboxes.

In the UK, there's just a hole in your door, and the postman sticks a post

through it, and then the post is in your house.

Which, you don't have that. So when I'm doing that joke, in your head, I'm just

at the end of your driveway.

You've got...

Is he still out there?

What is he doing?

Well, the flak's up.

I understand sometimes when men send unsolicited dick pics, they do so

they're assholes and it's abuse of power and it's a sort of form of harassment.

I'm not going to attempt to justify that in any way, shape or form. I would like

to believe though, I think a lot of the time, well maybe not a lot, but I think

some of the time men send unsolicited dick pics is because they're idiots.

Like it's not a malicious thing. It's a naivety thing.

It's men being egocentric. They're taking the logic that applies to

and forcing it on the rest of the world because we think we're the center of the

universe. What a man will be thinking when he sends an unsolicited dick pic is

like, man, see if a woman sent me an unsolicited picture of her vagina.

That would be the best day of my life.

And it would be.

Like, lads, if we all just left it there and turned our phones back on and just

some lovely woman had just sent you a picture of our vagina, you'd be like,

fucking yes.

Fucking subscribe to whatever this is.

And the reason we are like that is because we've never been threatened with

vaginas. Right? Unless your mum did that thing, she was like, you shut the fuck

up or you're going back up there. That might just be my mum.

At this point, you'll get men being like, oh, what? So it's okay for women

send unsolicited nudes, but it's not okay for a man to do it. Is that what

you're saying, Daniel?

Yes. Yes.

And it's not a double standard. Don't think it's a double standard. Because

though the pictures are very similar, the tone is different. And the tone is

crucial. Tone is always important in these things. The best way I can

the difference in tone is it's the difference between you sending someone a

picture of your house.

or somebody else sending you a picture of your house.

Those are very similar photos, but they mean incredibly different things.

It goes from being, this is where I live, to this is where you live!

You understand how one of those became a thread, right?

And that's it. I would love to live in a world where you just start chatting

with a girl. You get on very well.

It's just you meet her in a bar. You meet her out and about doing whatever

do. You give her your number. You're like balls in your court.

She goes away. She's like, I will text him. I will text him. He was nice.

Better let him know I'm interested though.

I've turned the flash on.

This is just her sliding snapchat filters.

Look when it opens up a rainbow fuzz house.

I've sent dick pics. Of course I have. Of course I have.

Of course I have.

Of course I have.

Of course I have.

Of course, of course I have. Of course I have.

What are you talking, of course I have.

My phone has a camera on it.

And I have a dick.

What conclusion did you think I was going to arrive at?

But again, always solicited, always to someone who's like, like,

they don't do that aggressively.

And to my brothers out there that are sending solicited dick pics, do not let

the rest of these monsters ruin the good thing going on, right? Fucking fight

the good fight. If you're still a bit ashamed of your dick pics, I get it.

seen my own dick pics. They're, you know, there.

But just compared to the nudes at the women's end, always.

It's just better.

Women, I don't know if every single one of you fuckers went to art school, but

the effort.

In these little, there's lingerie, there's angles, there's lighting,

fucking drape somewhere.

Even though it's a photo, somehow music is playing in the background.

Whereas men send dick pics like they're trying to sell a used car.

It's like, this is what I say.

Now you say what I say.

Do you like what I see?

I like when you see what I see.

Oh, you want another angle? Don't worry, baby, I got two of them.

This one like a mugshot, like he's been a bad penis.

Now, to the people that don't send nudes, I know I gave you a hard time

I was joking. If you're not comfortable sending nudes, don't send nudes. Your

body, your choice. I absolutely respect that. My problem with you fucking

prudes, though, is just not all of you, but it's your people

that whenever nudes get leaked, whether it be celebrity or normal, everyday

people, there's always these fucking leaks. Your people are the first ones to

like, oh, your nudes leaked today. That's a shame.

What a pity. What a pity that is. If only there would be some way to prevent

that from happening.

Oh, like, oh, I don't know, never taking them in the first place?

Ah.

Oh.

I'm such a genius. I think I'm the smartest person that ever lived.

These people aren't idiots for having their nudes leaked. It's not like they

just left them on a bus and were like, no!

That's where my dick picks. Why?

Like, they're being robbed.

They're having their things hacked or they're being blackmailed. They're

the victim, man. Like, it's not happened to me yet, and it will.

There's enough of my dick pics out there in the world.

Don't cheer like you've seen them. That's terrifying.

We know.

One of my friends was... There's a video of my friend Massabing that was leaked

online. Now, he's not an idiot for this. Yeah, he's a bit funny. I agree with

you.

But what happened was he was talking to this girl for three months. Now, it

wasn't a girl. He was being catfished. But he's not a fucking idiot, man. Like,

he knew about catfishing. So when he was talking to her over the course of two

or three months, they Skyped.

They FaceTimed each other.

Technology's got to the point where they were able to put a face over the face,

or make it look like it was a girl they're talking to, a bit fucking blind.

that's who he thought he was talking to for the entire time. So he trusted her

over the course of two months.

After about two and a half months, she was like, hey, we should do a mutual

masturbation session. And he was like, well, I'm not an idiot. You go first.

they managed to get one of the very, very, many, many videos of women

masturbating on webcam online. They superimposed it into the thing. That's

he thought he was doing it with.

Trusted her, got his dick out, started masturbating, filmed the entire thing.

Afterwards, they were like, we know who you are.

We know you've got a bit of money. Unless you give us this amount of money,

we're going to release this video and ruin your career.

200 ,000.

200 ,000 times I've watched that video.

Of course I have.

He's one of my best friends. I send him photos of it every day, being like,

that's your face when you cum. Ha ha.

It's another reason why I know I get called a sociopath, because I'll happily

laugh at people in miserable situations.

But you've got to understand, I'm not laughing at them being miserable. The

reason I make jokes with my friends when they're going through hard times is

because...

I'm really sad about what happened, my friend. It was a horrible thing to go

through, but I can't stop it from happening because it's happened. The

thing I can do is help him deal with it. And I've found in my life laughing at

things that have happened to you makes it easier to deal with. Just being able

to laugh at something that's affected you means it has less power over you for

period of time.

And that's why I like making jokes about these things. Now, at the end of the

day, I don't really give a shit if you think I'm a sociopath, as long as you

understand what you're accusing me of being. The difference between a

and a sociopath is hotly debated amongst a lot of psychiatrists and

psychologists, and they're going to be very annoyed by me butchering them. all

the fucking science behind it. But basically, psychopaths are born. You're

born inherently shit. There's a chemical imbalance in the brain and you're like,

I like to kick dogs.

It's just, that's who you are.

Whereas sociopaths are made. Something happens to you during your childhood

stunts your growth, stops your brain, developing empathy at the normal rate of

other people. So if you're accusing me of being a sociopath, you're saying

something bad happened to me during my childhood to make me that way. We should

be able to work out what that moment is. And if it doesn't exist, logically I

cannot be a sociopath. So let's look at the known factors that turn someone into

one.

Let's go for bad parenting. I'm going to cancel that one out straight away. If

you've met my mum and dad, they're the kindest people alive. It makes no sense

how... why I turned out.

My mum is bewildered by the contempt I have for this planet. At least once a

month I'll phone her up and I'll rant about shit that doesn't matter and I'll

just slam down the phone and she'll be like, well at least he called.

What else turns people into sociopaths? Childhood trauma. It's a big one.

Something traumatic happens to you as a child. Now, there is one of those for

me. When I was eight years old, my sister Josie passed away. For any of

if you've seen the special Dark, you understand that I'm more than capable of

making several excellent points, talking about it very openly, while also making

excellent jokes about it at the same time.

But Josie's death did not give me a disregard for human life. If anything,

taught me I needed to value it more. So we can nip that one in the bud. What

else turns someone into a sociopath? Bullying.

I was an excellent bully.

I made sick dollar every day.

No, I was bullied a little bit. No more than others. Not enough to be like...

What else?

Child abuse.

Molestation. That's a big one.

I've never been molested.

Well, here's a story.

When I was 19 years old, my mum gets a phone call from the police. And they go,

Mr. Sloss, we'd like to speak to your eldest son.

And that's me. So she put me on the phone.

And they went, Daniel Sloss?

And I went, thee?

And they went, what?

Nothing.

Okay, Mr. Sloss, we'd like to interview you.

I've already got a job.

Sorry.

I love trying to make police officers laugh because I'm white and I'm allowed

do that.

No,

no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no. You're not angry at the joke. You're angry at

the truth within the joke, right?

I'm not woke for making the observation. You're not woke for getting upset.

Let's all move on together.

I was like, what's the interview about?

They're like, we can't tell you over the phone. Do we have your permission to

come around to your house and interview you then?

And I said, no.

They're like, why not? I'm like, because it could be a trap.

A trap for what? What have you done? Nothing.

Then it's not a trap, is it?

Fuck, good point.

You'll make detective one day.

Next day, two police officers come to my house, a man and a woman. Their genders

are unimportant, but it's going to help your visualisation with the story.

My parents are not allowed to be in the room with me while I'm being

interviewed. It's just me and the police.

And I'm like, am I in trouble? They're like, you're not in trouble. You were

just either the witness or the victim of a crime a couple of years ago.

And I was like, oh shit, okay.

What crime?

They're like, we can't tell you.

Because we don't know whether you're a victim or just a witness, we cannot risk

leading the witness and then losing your statement. So we just have to ask you a

bunch of vague questions and hope you arrive at your own conclusions, and then

you can tell us the story.

And I was like, cool, fun game.

Okay, Mr. Floss, tell us about your acting career.

Ah, easy, doesn't exist.

But you have done acting before?

No, not really.

Yes, you have.

Well, I mean, I have.

Yes, you have.

I'm not the kid from Home Alone, man. I get that all the time, but it's not

like, Mr. Claus, you did musical theatre when you were a teenager.

Oh, fucking, oh, that, yeah. I don't consider that acting, though. I'm not

L .A.

I'm not like, no, I'm a lovely little actor. I sing a song every night.

I'm like, I did musical theatre between the ages of 11 and 17. Not because I

enjoy it. I actively fucking hate it. But my mum works from home and during

summer holidays I would be home from school. And she didn't enjoy that very

because I'm very annoying.

So she did what any healthy parent does at that point in time and then made me

someone else's problem.

She just signed me up to a can and went, love you, bye, fuck off and that.

So I spent two weeks every year minimum at musical theatre camp.

And they were like, and how was that for you? I was like, it was very traumatic.

They were like, aha!

Why? Because I can't sing.

I'm not being modest. I can't sing. My voice doesn't really have much range,

I'm also partially tone deaf. I can't really tell the difference in the pitch

my own voice. That's why whenever I do stand -up, I've only got two voices.

It's either this monotony or the very offensive impression I do of women.

It's either, hello, I'm Daniel Sloss, or hello, I'm a lady. That's all my voice

does.

But I've always been confident and I've always had stage presence. So they

ignored the fact that I couldn't sing and they gave me the leads in all the

musicals. And then when it came to any solo songs I did, they made me rap them.

Sound bad. It was worse.

And it's stuff like Jesus Christ Superstar where I played Jesus and I was

yo, my name is Jesus Christ and I'm here to say it was fucking horrendous.

They're like, who did you go to theatre with? I'm like, thousands of children.

They're like, name names!

I'm like, okay.

Start lifting off people I remember. I obviously don't arrive with the name

want me to arrive at, so they feed me it. They're like, do you remember this

person? I was like, no.

They go, yes, you do.

No, I don't. Yes, you do. Look, I know I've smoked a lot of marijuana since

then, but my memory isn't actually that bad. You've smoked a lot of what? Oh,

what?

Huh?

That's loud isn't it? My mum's outside the door. He also sniffs deodorant cans!

He's a monster!

Lock him up!

Now the reason I didn't remember the name of the person, well it wasn't

I didn't remember the person, but it's because he had a nickname all the way

through theatre and they were using his full name.

You never really realise the power of nicknames until your friend who has a

nickname gets a new partner and their new partner starts calling them by their

actual name.

It will fuck you up for weeks at a time.

You'll be sat there and they'll be like, have you seen Jason?

I don't think I've ever met a Jason in my life.

Your best friend Jason. I think I'd know if my best... Oh, dick biscuit. Yes, of

course. Sorry.

I go, I remember him. Tell him about him. All right, he was nice.

I remember my first day of theatre, I didn't know anyone, so I cried. That was

my self -defense mechanism.

He took me under his wing. He introduced me to people he knew. He was also a

very good singer, because we had to do duets sometimes, and he'd sing really

beautifully, and then I'd rap.

Then they asked a question that changed the tone of the whole afternoon.

How old did he tell you he was?

I beg your pardon?

C 'est quoi?

Fucking what, cunt?

What do you mean, how old did he tell you? What kind of question is that? It

an 11 to 17 year old there, so he must have been 16 or 17. What do you mean?

She doesn't answer.

She goes into her briefcase, she brings out a stack of paper this thick. This

stack of paper contains every single conversation I have ever had with this

person over MSN Messenger over the course of four years.

She starts quoting certain segments out to me and it becomes very apparent, very

quickly, that a 13 -year -old Daniel Sloss was being groomed and had no

idea.

And when I say painfully obvious, I mean like, turns out I'm as bad with

paedophiles as I am with women. Like I just...

I just don't pick up any of the signals. I'm like, me?

Stop it. No, come on. No.

She said, tell me about the yellow trousers.

And I was like, oh, fuck, I remember the yellow trousers.

I don't know if you've ever had a memory just come out of nowhere. I fucking

hate you. I was like, oh, my God, the yellow trousers. She's like, why are you

reacting like that?

And I was like, because you've just put them in a very different context.

In one of the musicals, I needed to wear full yellow. I can't remember why. It

was just the character.

wore full yellow and I had a yellow shirt and I had yellow shoes but I

own yellow trousers because who fucking owns those?

Turns out this guy did and he lent me a pair of yellow trousers for the duration

of the musical. She goes, good.

That brings us to June 3rd, 2004.

He said, hey Dan, do the yellow trousers fit?

You said, yeah, thanks man.

He said, why don't you turn your webcam on and show me you're trying them on?

And I was like,

What did I say?

Like, did I do it?

Like, I don't know, it's just a video of me on your iPad being like, see, they

fit! Like, whoa!

What is this?

She was like, you said, nah man, don't worry about it, you'll see them

And I was like, oh boy, fucking oh boy.

Open with that!

She goes, can we proceed? And I'm like, absolutely, we can proceed if it helps

the investigation.

What's your next question?

Mr. Sloss, do you remember what you said July 17th, 2004?

Yes.

Really? No!

He said, hey Dan, do you masturbate?

You said, yes, sometimes.

He said, what do you masturbate to?

You said your mum lol and logged off.

I cannot commend the professionalism of this woman enough.

She didn't crack a fucking inch.

She said it with such a straight face that she must have practiced.

She must have it. Her and her partner must have just been in the car being

okay, here we go, go on.

Okay, come on.

You said you're my... Oh, fuck.

I was close, I was close.

You said you... You made me laugh! You did it that time!

Ah, fuck it, we'll leave him in there.

It took me five seconds to realise what she said. And then I died. And I died on

the floor, crying with laughter, just nudging the male officer, being like, I

fucking got him, didn't I? He's like, get off my fucking leg.

She's like, can we continue? And I was like, yes, please.

This is the best day of my life.

Mr. Sloss, do you remember what happened the weekend, August 20th, 2004?

Nah, but I bet it was funny.

Friday night, he said, hey Dan, would you like to go to the cinema tomorrow?

You said, yeah, sure, who with?

He said, just you and me.

You said, cool, see you then.

He said, don't tell your parents it's just you and me.

You said, why would I?

You forget how stupid and naive you are when you're young.

I was 19 when I was being interviewed. I was 30 when these conversations took

place. There's only a six -year difference. But I remember thinking,

fucking hell, I can't remember being that stupid and trusting.

I can't remember going to the cinema.

What does that mean?

I'm asking her. I'm like, I don't remember going to the cinema with this

Does that mean I have a repressed memory? Do I have repressed memories?

And she was like, what? No, no, no, sorry. Monday morning, the first thing

said was, where were you?

I'd forgotten to go.

This poor paedophile.

He's always so close.

He's so close. And I just slip away every time.

Every time.

Like, I know he's evil, but he must be so frustrated.

It must be so annoying for him. Just standing in the cinema, melting ice

He's like Wile E. Coyote, and I'm like the roadrunner, just me, me, and I just

disappear.

He's just there molesting the cloudy outline of where I was, like, ah, this

isn't the same.

I'm making these jokes, I'm laughing, she's listening to the jokes, she's not

laughing.

She's like, do you find this funny? And I was like, yes.

Because you haven't told me what's going on. All you've done for the past hour

is gone, hey, do you want to know how funny you were when you were 13 years

Don't get me wrong, I have arrived at a conclusion that I think you suggested I

was going to arrive at. But if you want me to explain why in just this

particular moment I'm laughing, because comedy equals tragedy plus time, and

this was clearly very nearly a massive tragedy, and a lot of time has passed

since then.

And it's just, in all honesty, it just tickles me to find out that when I was

years old that I accidentally cock -teased a pedo.

And when I said cock -teased the pedo, she cracked. She went, oh, yeah.

Her partner was like, shh, in the car, in the car. Yes, write it down. Of

course, write it down. That's hysterical.

I was like, what did you mean? What did you mean when you said how old did he

tell me he was? What does that question mean?

She goes, well, the time he was at theatre with you, he wasn't 17 years

was 21.

he just looked incredibly young he'd been taking advantage of this for a

years we also know that he was a volunteer at a local school and i was

like that's not funny like now i get why you weren't laughing at my excellent

jokes earlier on like If you'd opened with that, I just wouldn't have taken it

more seriously. Like, I know I'm okay, but is everyone else okay?

She's like, everyone else is fine at the moment. The reason for the

investigation is he basically left himself logged on one of the school

computers. Somebody went on after him, found his browsing history where he was

in a lot of forum boards pretending to be an underage boy.

We then confiscated his laptop and we found conversations like that on that.

we're following the traces of all of those. Now, I know there's a lot of

in this room, so let me just spoil the ending. But I feel like he never managed

to do anything to anyone. He is still in prison and he will be for a very long

time. So, just, you know.

Unclench your buttocks, which was his catchphrase.

Grow up, which was not his catchphrase.

The interview goes on for about three hours altogether. I've got to convince

them I'm not lying or hiding anything.

At the end of it, they thank me for my patience and I thank them for the

routine.

And they're like, you can't ever talk about this on stage.

And I was like, oh yeah, okay.

Are you telling me to keep a secret?

Seems a bit hypocritical.

Now people have asked if there's anything traumatic about that story. And

honesty, the answer is no. Just because I was one of the fortunate ones. Nothing

happened in that situation.

It was a bit weird and jarring to find out. I'm not going to lie. I spent, I

think, a couple of weeks just replaying conversation I'd have with them over and

over in my head. Being like, oh, that didn't mean what I thought it meant.

But it was weird. The worst thing about it was, because I was 19 years old, I

was legally considered an adult by British police.

So they didn't have to tell my parents anything. They just fucked off.

And then my mum and dad came into the room and were like, who is that about?

And I had to explain to my mum and dad everything I'd learned at that moment.

And my mum sent me to that theatre group. Now, although we know that it's

her fault by any stretch of the imagination, she's an emotional woman.

devastated. She blamed herself.

She was like, oh my God, my baby, I can't believe I put you in so much

No wonder you're a drug addict. It's not my fault.

Meanwhile, my dad was crying with laughter.

My dad should be like, oh, cocktease, a pedo. That's a belter. That's an

absolute... That's an absolute belter. Did she laugh at that? Yeah, she must

have done. Of course she did.

She'd have to be dead not to.

But that man there to me is a true sociopath.

The paedophile, not my father.

I think he's absolutely a sociopath. He exhibits many of the personality traits

of a sociopath.

He's got egocentrism.

narcissism, manipulation, lack of empathy, lack of remorse, bad planning.

I also believe you can be a sociopath in other senses of the word. As I

explained before, in order to become a sociopath, something has to happen to

during your childhood to make you that way.

You have to take into consideration that over 70 % of child molesters were also

molested themselves when they were children. So at what point do they stop

victims and start being perpetrators? It's obviously when they act on those

impulses. But at what point do you stop treatment and do you start punishment?

It's a very difficult, very uncomfortable, very brutal conversation

I'm not going to be able to do justice in the next five minutes.

I just like ending shows on fucked up notes.

But the question is, am I a sociopath? I don't think so.

But then again, I wouldn't.

Sociopaths tend to not know they're sociopaths.

They also tend to hide in plain sight.

I normally leave it up to the audience amongst themselves, talk after the show,

go grab a drink, see if you think I'm a sociopath. You've got two choices. Yes,

I am. No, I'm not.

Either yes, I am a sociopath, or no, I'm not.

Either yes, I am a sociopath, or no, I'm something else entirely.

Either yes, I am a sociopath and the story I told you there wasn't entirely

true.

Maybe something did happen to me when I was younger.

Maybe I hate the lack of power and I hate the lack of control I had in that

moment that subconsciously I became obsessed with power, I became obsessed

control. I turned down university because I couldn't stand the idea of

telling me how to live my life and making my decisions for me. So I got

job where I was in charge, where I was in control, where I...

I had a voice. And as time got on, I loved the attention. I loved the

loved the power it afforded me. And I got addicted to it. And I needed that

attention more. I needed that audience to come back and give me that attention

so desperately craved. But the thing was, I needed them to relate to me

emotionally. That would get them back. That would be the key to my success.

But I don't have emotions.

So maybe I learned how to fake them.

Maybe I learned how to lie.

Maybe I became a master manipulator.

Maybe I made up a dead disabled sister who never existed just to gain sympathy.

Maybe I spent two years of my life breaking up couples because I couldn't

the idea of them experiencing a level of joy I myself am incapable of

experiencing.

Maybe I did that year in, year out, year in, year out, year in, year out,

because I loved the attention, I loved the control, but most importantly, I

loved the fucking money. And despite what you say, money does equal power, so

worked and I saved and I worked and I saved and I worked and I saved, and in

years' time, when I finally snap and I do what needs to be done to cleanse this

planet and purify it...

And I go down in a hail of fucking gunfire with a smile on my face and they

my body straight to the morgue, straight to the autopsy. They rip off my shirt,

they rip off my trousers. I'm riddled with bullets and a big rictus grin

my face and unblinking happy eyes. But the one thing that stands out above all

else is the fresh tattoo across my chest. Not of a manifesto, not of a

an address.

An address down by the docks in Edinburgh.

They send in an entire team, the SWAT and police there, they're all standing

outside surrounding the helicopters going above ahead.

They lift up the doors, they throw flashbangs, they throw in smokes, they

into every corner and when the dust finally settles and the last of the

clears and there's nothing left, there's no movement, there's just... Fridges.

Fridges. Isles of fridges.

We've gone to the fucking wrong warehouse. This is a fridge warehouse.

They get the order, this is the address, they walk in, look in every room, every

corner, basement, attic, nothing there.

Then one by one, they open up the freezers and freezers, and it's just the

of anyone that offered me orange juice with pulp in it.

So it's either that, or, or, or, I'm just a cunt.

And I know what I've been called more.

Austin, you've been absolutely incredible. Thank you so much. I've been

Swartz. Good night.

One thing I won't do is let you tell me that I can't be great.

Can't be great.

One thing I won't do is let you tell me this ain't my thing.

This ain't my thing.