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Good evening, people of the Northampton audience,

Official YIFY movies site: YTS.MX

and welcome to "James Acaster: Hecklers Welcome."

Before we begin, here are the house rules.

Yes!

Show 'em how we do it!

This is how we do it!

Thank you so much, Northampton.

That felt incredible.

James Acaster here, reporting for the best

evening of his life--

of his professional life, absolutely.

First of all, though, so you get some context,

I'm going to tell you about the worst gig of my entire career.

Happened in the early days.

I was baby-faced as hell.

Before I even got to the mic stand, a drunk lady heckled me.

Goes, oi!

Does your mother know you're up this late?

Hey, mate, mate!

Does your mother know you're up this late?

I said, mate, mate, mate, mate!

Hey, mate!

Does your mother know you're up this late?

Anyway, this is the story about how once,

in order to shut up a heckler, I claimed

that my mother was dead.

I looked at this lady, and I said,

yeah, my mum's dead, actually.

And then I followed it up--some

people have said unnecessarily--with,

really recently as well.

Because I didn't want her heckling me again.

Wanted to make sure that whatever I said to this woman,

she'd be silent for the rest of my time

onstage, which she was, by the way,

along with the rest of the audience, who felt absolutely

devoed for the kid onstage trying to do

stand-up comedy despite having recently buried his own mother.

I had no idea why I'd done that, man.

I came offstage thinking, that was nuts.

What were you thinking?

What was that about?

I've only figured it out in recent years--

yeah, I thought so.

Look, sometimes it's, uh, just more reassuring to just

fuck it straight out the gate.

At least that wasn't my fault, you know.

I was heckled by the microphone today.

It's called "Hecklers Welcome," and the same

goes for the tech team.

If they want to punk me, they can.

They absolutely did me a treat.

And actually, may I say as well, bravo to all of you

during that, because we all--we all heard it.

From the moment--

from the moment I started talking,

everyone was like, that mic's broke.

That mic doesn't work.

He's filming this.

And all of you absolutely just homed in on what I

was saying and were like, we're gonna--

we're here for you, man.

Every time we think we should laugh, we're going to laugh,

even though this is unpleasant on the ears.

Best gig I've ever had happened last year in the back

of a taxicab in London.

Going home late at night, the cabbie turns to me.

Says, James, I've been a cabbie in London for decades now,

but I've decided I'm going to move to Norfolk.

I want to be nearer my daughter.

I was like, man, that's a beautiful story.

But you do realize, if you want to be a cabbie in Norfolk,

they make you do a really strict series of exams.

You've got to memorize all the routes around Norfolk.

Every street name, every road name,

you've got to have it in there, ready to go.

Says, really?

Yeah, yeah, yeah.

It's called the Norwich.

Now, listen, don't worry if you didn't get that joke.

Most people don't get that joke.

It's what is known as not a good joke.

Do it all the way--

the whole tour, I've done it.

Uh, rarely goes down well.

Pretty much goes down the worst out of all the material every

single night, consistently.

But I tell you it because I've never

had a joke go down as well as when I told

that joke to that cab driver.

It was tailor-made for that guy.

He laughed so much, it was definitely dangerous.

He kept remembering it on the way home,

laughing again and repeating "the Norwich" out loud.

Said he was gonna tell all the boys at the depot my joke,

and he told me I was funny.

Happened to me last year, but it's

the first time in my entire life

where I've actually thought to myself,

I think I could be a stand-up comedian.

Now, in order to tell you about the best gig I've ever seen,

I have to tell you about the second-best

gig I've ever seen--

David Byrne doing "American Utopia" live on Broadway.

Amazing music, obviously, choreography.

Did a very nice speech at the end about how

important it is to vote.

Then this big old curtain came down

and all the lights came on in this beautiful

Broadway theater.

I was second row, and in front of me,

a couple instantly stood up--middle-aged hipsters,

I'd say, white hipsters.

And they turned and they regarded the whole audience.

No one else had even stood up yet.

And they looked at each other and went--

Vote! Vote! Vote! Vote!

Vote! Vote! Vote! Vote!

Vote! Vote! Vote! Vote!

And, like, not one person joined in with those people,

and that is the best gig I've ever seen.

David Byrne, number two.

Those stupid fucking idiots, number one.

And I was front row for that, second row for David Byrne.

Come on, Kermit!

Come on, Kermit?

Oh, man.

Why did I wear this?

You absolutely did me.

I can't believe it.

I thought this looked cool.

But you're right, I do look like Kermit the Frog.

And you absolutely took your shot.

I'm toast.

Do you have any idea how it feels

to be toast with a cameraman right fucking there?

This guy stood right as close to the stage as he can,

during the lowest moment of my life.

I just got called Kermit.

Kermit the--do you know who Kermit is?

He's green.

He's green frog.

I'm wearing green.

And he can pick up all the sorrow in my eyes.

It's going better than when that woman shouted,

"Does your mother know you're up this late?" to me.

I haven't pretended any of my parents are dead yet.

That's the bar for me.

Did I pretend a relative was dead?

No? Well, then it's a success.

Honestly, man, I didn't know why I'd said to that audience

on that night.

I thought it was nuts.

And I'm only realizing in recent years why I did it.

I think we've all reflected on ourselves a lot

in recent years.

In the lockdowns, we all learnt a lot about ourselves,

and what I learnt about myself was--

and don't let this get in your head

or ruin the show for you in any way, it's absolutely fine.

But what I learnt about myself during lockdown was,

um, I don't like doing stand-up comedy.

And that's not weird, by the way.

It's not weird to not enjoy doing stand-up comedy.

Like, you know the reason why none of you do stand-up comedy?

Same.

I agree with you. You're right.

Just took me 16 years to figure it out.

Over 16 years ago, I was about to do

my first-ever gig, a little room above a pub in Kettering.

I'm about to go onstage, and the barman sidled up to me

and said, oi, mate, here's a bit of trivia for you

before you do your first show.

Excitement and nervousness, they're

actually the same emotion, chemically, in your body.

Just depends if you're a positive person

or a negative person, how you choose

to interpret that emotion.

Now, looking around the room, you've all correctly

identified that as a lie.

I wasn't so lucky.

I was like, thank you, wise barman.

That's handy.

And for the last 16-plus years, I've been beside

the stage most nights of the year going,

I-I'm excited.

I'm doing what I love!

So many times over the years, people

have told me I'm brave for doing stand-up comedy.

Oh, you're so brave.

I couldn't do what you do.

You're so brave.

Throw the compliment back in their face every single time.

I'm not brave! What are you talking about?

I'm way too excited to be brave, mate.

But now that I realize how scared

I am every single evening, I'm here to tell you,

I'm brave as hell.

Don't care.

Don't care if that sounds arrogant.

I'm really brave doing this job.

Look, I'm not saying I'm like a fireman or a soldier

or anything, but a lifeguard?

Sure.

I'm easily as brave as a lifeguard.

Uh, a swimming pool lifeguard, not a beach one.

Not a beach one.

In 2019, I did the biggest tour of my career, rooms this size

off my own name for the very first time,

90% of the year on the road.

That was the dream when I started in that little room

above a pub in Kettering.

But four nights out of five, I'd walk out onto the stage

doing my routine, into my tightly scripted material,

and before I even got to the first punchline,

someone way up in the gods who I

couldn't even see would interrupt

me by saying something like--

I told you I'd do it. You said I wouldn't do it.

I told you I'd do it.

And every time that happened, I'd

single out that individual in front of the entire audience.

I'd come back with something witty

like, um, like, uh, shut the fuck up, or never fucking come

and see me again.

That's funny.

Or the golden classic, go fuck yourself.

That's a fine response, if you're an edgy comedian,

if you're, like, Frankie Boyle, and that suits your persona.

But if you're walking onstage like,

I've started eating apricots recently.

Choke on shit, you fucking cunt!

I hope you fucking die!

It's quite the tonal shift.

No one ever enjoyed that.

It makes it very hard to segue into your material

about starting your own honey business once you've

said that sort of stuff.

I'd yell at them if they were too noisy.

I'd yell at them if they were too quiet as well.

Nothing was good enough for me.

If I saw one person looking bored--

which, side note, my fault--

I'd destroy them.

The rest of the audience could be laughing their heads off,

every single person.

If I saw one person watching me like this--

which, by the way, that's how I watch everything.

That's me watching the funniest comedian

I've ever seen in my life.

Nish is good.

I think I've laughed out loud as part of an audience twice

my entire life, both times in the cinema,

so it weren't even live.

I laughed when Jack Black kicked the dog off the bridge,

and I laughed when Mini Me humped the laser.

They're the two times that this sophisticated fella

has laughed with other people.

And I'm bollocking you nightly.

I'm not alone, though.

Most comics don't deal with it very well if you

don't laugh at their jokes.

Nine times out of 10, we'll blame you.

We'll go on the offensive.

The comedian will say something like, oh, I'm sorry, guys.

Oh, did I cross the line?

Oh, are my radical thoughts too much for your puny

snowflake brains?

They'll never be like, oh, I'm sorry, guys.

Was that underwritten and poorly performed?

I saw a comedian recently go, oh, I'm sorry, guys.

Oh, getting offended early, are we?

Well, let me explain something to you about comedy.

Comedy always comes

from a place of love, OK?

It never comes from a place of hate.

And I was at the back of the room

like, well, I wouldn't be so sure about that.

Well, I for one know that I'm going to go home and write

a routine about this.

And coming from no place of love, I'll tell you that much.

Hate that comedian. Hope they're dead.

I do.

I hope them and their entire fan base die soon.

That's what I hope.

I hope that happens.

I hope they fall down a manhole, all of them,

same manhole, one after the other.

I hope they're out doing a conga celebrating

their free speech, and they tumble down

an open manhole like a slinky.

I hope that happens, and they complain all the way down

that they're being silenced, and then they splatter into one

another like a domino effect.

I hope that happens. That's funny to me.

I think that's funny.

That's comedy. That's comedy.

No, I know I'm stood up here having

a go at comedians, like there's no such thing

as a bad audience.

Of course there is.

I've been a member of bad audiences.

Worst audience I've ever been in, I was 13 years old.

School assembly.

But it was more of a missed booking than anything.

For reasons still unknown to me,

they'd got a yoga instructor to come in

and talk to us about the benefits

of regularly practicing yoga.

I don't know if you've ever been 13.

You're the most supple person on the planet.

The only thing you respect less than stretching

is anyone who appears vaguely religious.

Absolutely tore this prick to ribbons.

As soon as he walked onstage, we

identified he was physically strong, but mentally weak.

The most pathetic thing, to this day,

I've ever heard anyone say to their audience is this yoga

instructor going, please, children,

if you don't stop screaming, I can't tell you my secrets.

Still makes me smile.

I love it.

So sad.

I can't tell you my secrets.

These aren't secrets, old man!

These aren't secrets.

You're a random white guy from Kettering.

Everything you know about yoga is in the public domain, Derek.

It was a shame, though.

I used to love it when people came in from outside of school

to talk to us.

Those were my favorite days.

When I was five, my grandmother came

into my primary school class to give a talk

about the spinning wheel.

And that's not normal where I'm from, either.

And I've got no answers to your questions.

I'm sorry, I don't--

I don't know why it happened.

I was five. I just accepted it.

Everything was happening to me for the first time.

Then I grew up and realized it was weird,

but by then she had passed away.

I couldn't ask her why it had happened.

So I asked my parents and they said, we weren't

aware that had happened.

Took it to the grave.

Nothing but respect for that woman.

She brought in this big old wooden spinning wheel

from home, and she put it in front of us.

There's like 35 five-year-olds sat

on the floor in front of her.

She's on a stool.

I can't remember what the talk was exactly.

It was something along the lines of, I fucking love this.

Oh, I remember how she ended her set.

At the end of her set, she goes,

who wants to come up here, have a go on the spinning wheel?

As soon as she said that, all I wanted

to do for the rest of my natural-born life

was spin wool in front of an audience.

It's just burning deep within my heart, that desire.

Put my hand up.

This is one of those stories, let's face it,

I don't have to end this story.

You know how this story ends.

You know what happens next, at least.

You know she didn't pick me.

Of course not.

She picked three other kids, and I

did the classy thing and burst into loud, unignorable tears.

I went berserk, in floods.

In floods.

She panicked.

Um, OK, yeah, I think we've got time for one more.

Come on up here, James, even though I see you every Sunday,

and you've never once shown an interest in the spinning wheel.

And I'm staggering over my classmates, just still at a 10,

raining down tears on them.

And my body had gone all floppy,

like, with emotion, I guess.

So I couldn't stand at the spinning wheel

like the other kids had done and use the pedal with dignity.

Instead, my grandmother's operating the pedal,

and she sits me on her knee.

I'm just lolloping around, one hand

holding the wool here, just open-eye crying

at all of my classmates.

And, like, for way too long.

She didn't have to spin that much wool, in my opinion.

We're not selling it.

Slow down, Nan. What's--

And that, it's important to note,

was my first time ever in front of an audience.

And when I told my therapist that story,

he was like, uh-huh.

Yeah, that's why, James.

That's why everything.

That's why absolutely everything about you.

He goes, James, this story is very important,

what you've just told me.

You've got to bear it in mind.

You've got to remember, every time you're

onstage in front of an audience,

it's not just you up there.

That little boy is up there as well,

and you've got to protect that boy.

Which, uh, I'd say is like, um, harder than what I

was doing in the first place.

Like, stand-up comedy is already pretty difficult.

Now I've got to protect a boy every time I'm up here?

No wonder I was coming out with my guard up night after night.

Someone heckles me-- he's just a boy!

Leave the boy alone!

Get behind me, boy.

I'll protect you.

I've got to protect that boy, man, through the ages as well.

I've got to protect that five-year-old boy sat

at the spinning wheel, sure.

But I've also got to protect the six-year-old boy who's

looking in his parents' bedroom mirror

and practicing his Prince Charles impression.

That kid needs a lot of protecting.

The most cringe moment of my entire life, and I

was the only person there for it.

It was bad, man.

Sat on the bed.

I closed the door.

I'm looking in the mirror.

For context, I'd entered the school talent show

and said I could do impressions, when

I couldn't do impressions.

I was six. So I was a liar.

So what?

I didn't know that no six-year-old ever

has done a good impression.

I don't know--none of you know a six--

none of you know a six-year-old who's good at--

none of you know a six-year-old who's like, come over.

Have you met John's kid?

He does an amazing McConaughey.

Listen to this kid.

All right, all right, all right.

Whoo!

Yeah, that kid's good.

Oh, they love you in Northampton.

You've never gotten applause all tour, little kid.

Do you want to do--do you want to do some more

McConaughey for them?

The kid's great.

You're killing!

Do you want to do--you want to do one more before you go?

Do "True Detective."

Do "True Detective" McConaughey.

Time is a flat circle.

That's--that's dark from a little kid, but well done.

They didn't like that one as much.

That was too dark, actually.

The "Wall Street" stuff was fun, but time is

a flat circle is a bit much.

Time is a flat circle.

James.

Hello, Jilly.

Hello, how are you?

Can you take the mic?

Yeah, OK.

I'll take the mic, and we're going to switch the clip now.

Ah.

What other McConaughey films are there?

Oh, I'll tell you what I'll do for "Dallas Buyers Club."

I'll do his Oscar acceptance speech,

because I remember that because he won the Oscar for it.

And it was this acceptance speech

I think about all the time.

When I was a kid, this guy I knew

said to me, who's your hero?

Who--who's your hero?

And I said, myself in 10 years' time.

Then 10 years later, I saw that man again.

And he said to me, you-- are you your hero yet?

And I said, hell, no.

He said, right.

Well, now who's your hero?

And I thought about it.

And I said, myself in 10 years' time.

And I will always be my own hero in 10 years' time.

And I thank you for this award, and I thank the Academy.

Thank you very much.

Hello--this is it.

Here we go.

This is--I'm six years old, and this is verbatim

what I did on the day.

I remember it, seared into my mind

because it was so embarrassing.

Hello, my name is Prince Charles.

Now, I know it's been a long build-up,

but I'm going to put a pause in there.

We're, um--we're halfway through the impression.

And I only put a pause in because there's absolutely

no way that any of you will be able to guess

where it goes next, so.

Hello, my name is Prince Charles.

That's the cat.

And that is how long my career as an impressionist lasted.

You are correct in thinking that the very next morning, I

marched straight into school, and I said

the familiar catchphrase, hello, Mrs. Weaver,

I'd like to pull out of the school talent show, please.

Why? Because I'm not talented.

Because I don't have a talent.

That was my main takeaway.

I hadn't even been onstage yet in my life

and done a proper gig.

I'm not talented.

So if you've ever seen me over the years at a gig--

and some of you will have, statistically,

would have seen me at a gig that's going quite well.

And then out of nowhere, and you don't even understand it

as an audience member, I start telling

you the gig's going shit.

Oh, this gig's shit, this is a shit gig.

Just know it's nothing to do with you.

All I've seen most nights, when I look out into the audience,

is my own six-year-old face looking back at me

in the mirror going, that doesn't

sound like Prince Charles.

Why is there a cat in this?

Well, they're famously a dog family.

They like corgis. They like cor--

Could have been worse.

Could have been worse?

Could have been Prince Andrew in the '90s.

Huh?

Could have been Prince Andrew in the '90s.

And applause for a pedophile.

Would you--I mean, what's your name,

the person who heckled that?

- Danny. - Danny.

Yes, made-up name.

Um, Danny, can you, uh, do an impression

of Prince Andrew in the '90s, please?

It's not wise.

It's not wise?

That should have been what he said in the '90s, maybe.

That would have been good.

That would have saved us all a lot of trouble.

I've got to protect the eight-year-old

boy, who apropos of nothing entered the family

dog into a dog show.

I didn't know I was even going to go to a dog show

when I woke up that morning.

We're walking in the woods, whole family,

and we come out to this big open field.

Amateur dog show going on, out of nowhere.

I didn't know that was going to happen.

People sitting on picnic blankets watching it.

As soon as I sat down in the grass,

all I wanted to do for the rest of my natural-born life

was enter and win amateur dog shows.

Deep within my heart, it's all I wanted to do.

Now, I did have a dog with me at the time,

but she was not what I would refer to as competition-ready.

It's a miniature sausage dog, very much the runt

of the litter as well.

When we originally got her from this lady's house,

there was loads of healthy miniature sausage dog puppies

running around.

And then there was one that was more miniature than the rest

of them, had a curved spine, a tail that went directly

upwards like a dodgem, and ears that came out like handlebars.

And we all agreed, as a family, we

had to take that one home with us,

or we'd worry about her for the rest of our lives.

Now, for years my dad had been saying no to getting a dog,

but we'd worn him down.

He'd gone, OK, fine, you can have

a dog, under one condition.

I'm the oldest of three. We're primary school kids.

We think this condition is going

to involve learning some responsibility,

something like that.

We've got to tidy up after it, feed it every day.

Instead, this 40-year-old man goes, OK, you can have

a dog under one condition--

I get to name it.

You know when you realize your parents

are just little kids as well?

He just wanted to name a doggy. That's adorable.

And he named it what a little kid would have named it.

He named a miniature sausage dog Minney.

That's cute, but I don't think he needed

to grab the wheel on this one.

We're three primary school kids.

Our first three suggestions were Mini, Sausage, and Dog.

You don't need to get involved in this, David.

Stand easy.

And he could tell we weren't impressed.

And he goes, well, it's not spelt how you think.

How's it spelt, then, champ?

M-I-N-N-E-Y.

And my mum asked him why it was spelt that way.

And at the time he was a secondary school teacher.

He goes, oh, because 10 years ago I taught this boy,

and his name was Stephen Minney.

And that's how his name was spelt.

I remember being confused but angry at the same time.

I wasn't thinking any of the darker thoughts

that some of you are currently thinking.

I mean, the Prince Andrew hecklers put

certain things in your head.

Don't get me--I'm sure as soon as we left the room,

my mum was like, right, who's this boy

and why does he mean so much to you?

That--that conversation was definitely had.

But we were just like, our dad's weird, isn't he?

We got a weird dad.

But here's the thing.

I'm 39 now.

I'm almost as old as he was, and I'm

concerned I'm turning into him, because now I agree

with him that that's funny.

I think it's objectively funny, face-value funny,

if your kids want a dog, to name

that dog after some completely different kid who they've

never met in their lives, they've

got no frame of reference for.

And as a result of him doing that,

every day of that dog's life, I thought about Stephen Minney.

Me, my brother, and sister would talk about Stephen Minney

all the time, long conversations speculating what

he might be up to as an adult.

Do you think Stephen Minney still lives in the borough?

How do you think Stephen Minney earns a crust?

I found out what happened to Stephen Minney

when I was 10 years old.

I'd joined the Cub Scouts, and twist

of all twists, Stephen Minney was my Cub Scout leader.

It's pure coincidence.

I know that Kettering is a small town, but that's wild.

But here's the thing.

I didn't know that Stephen Minney was my Cub Scout leader,

because--and if you've ever been involved

in Cub Scouts you'll already know this,

but Cub Scout leaders don't go by their actual names.

Instead, they call themselves-- and if you've not ever

been involved in Cub Scouts, heads up,

this will sound bananas--

they call themselves names of characters

from "The Jungle Book."

I'm just going to let you get used to living

in a world where that's true.

It's a true story.

They call themselves, like, Bagheera, Akela.

You know, better names for dogs than Stephen Minney.

That's what they all call themselves.

And then they made us call them that as well.

As a little kid, I had to go up and, like, look at a grown man

and be like, hello, Baloo, how was your weekend?

Like, yeah, good, thank you.

Now do this Illuminati sign with your hands

and tell me how much you love the Queen.

I promise to do my best--

to do my--that's what they--they made me

recite that as a 10-year-old.

Every week, I had to say, I promise

to do my best, to do my duty to God

and to the Queen.

And if I didn't say it, I was not permitted

to play with a foam football.

I had no idea--

That Shere Khan was Stephen Minney--

Until one day, my dad came to pick me up from Cub Scouts,

and he starts chatting to Shere Khan.

I'm in the car.

I'm waiting for them to wrap it up in the corridor.

Half an hour I'm waiting for them.

All the other Cub Scouts had gone home,

all the other Cub Scout leaders, King Louis

and that lot, they'd gone.

When my dad's driving me home later,

he goes, do you know who that was, who

I was chatting to back there?

Yeah, Dad.

His name's Shere Khan.

I see him every week.

I know him better than you do.

No.

That was Stephen Minney.

The Stephen Minney? Are you joking?

That's not funny if you've made that up, Dad.

That's the man we named the sausage dog after back there?

Are you for serious?

Are you for serious right now?

Yep.

That's the Stephen Minney, who we named the sausage dog after.

And what he didn't then tell me was,

obviously, don't tell Stephen Minney that.

Because grown-ups don't get as excited

as children when random people name dogs after them.

I was buzzing all week.

I couldn't wait to see Stephen Minney on Tuesday night.

I'm rubbing it in my brother and sister's faces.

Yeah, he goes by Shere Khan these days.

I know him pretty well.

Tuesday night rolls around.

I'm straight in that scout hut, ignoring

all my other mates saying hello to me, straight up to him.

Your name is Stephen Minney.

M-I-N-N-E-Y.

We named our sausage dog after you,

Stephen Minney.

She's a little runt.

My father has never forgotten you.

No, when we wanted a dog, he said, under one condition only.

You must name it after Stephen Minney, the boy

that I taught 10 years ago.

M-I-N-N-E-Y.

I think about you every day.

My sister likes to think you found

love in the arms of another.

Sat in the grass and watching the dog show.

And Stephen Minney, the sausage dog, is right here next to me.

I say to my parents, Mum, Dad, can I enter Stephen Minney

into the dog show, please?

I'd like to.

And they said yes, because it was free to enter,

and they did not care.

I remember going up to the sign-up sheet on this desk,

and most of the categories were based on appearance.

Now, this dog is beautiful to us,

but I knew these industry heads weren't going to get it.

So I found a more whimsical category,

Dog with the Waggiest Tail.

Stephen Minney's always wagging her tail at home.

10 to the dozen, we've definitely got this in the bag.

This is another one of those stories, let's face it,

I don't have to end this story.

You know how this story ends.

You know that it doesn't end with the phrase,

and then we won the dog show.

You know what happens next.

There's four adults onstage with their dogs

going absolutely haywire.

Then I'm stood there with what may as well be a taxidermy dog,

giving me precious little, while grown-ups on picnic

blankets point me out to their mates and laugh with abandon,

just properly going for it.

Then did what by now was my calling

card--burst into tears.

It's what I was known for.

You've got to give the people what they want.

You think McCartney doesn't do "Blackbird?"

Come on.

I was always bursting into tears, man.

I burst into tears at the spinning wheel.

I burst into tears at the dog show.

I burst into tears when I found out Jesus were dead.

The big three, as it's known in my house.

Finding out Jesus were dead still to this day

is the most I've ever cried.

It was--it was--

it was ugly, man.

I found out when I was four.

I'd been raised Christian since day one,

but no one had told me the twist yet.

All I knew was that I had a best

friend who loved me very much.

Life was pretty sweet for James Acaster.

Four years old, I rock up to church on Easter Sunday.

I'm excited, man.

This is where I do all my socializing.

I haven't been to school yet.

I still think it's cool to be Christian.

I'm turning up at the cool church

where all the cool kids hang out.

Easter Sunday, and everyone's celebrating more than usual.

The place is jumping.

I'm like, praise be.

This is why we come to church.

What are we celebrating?

Something awesome, by the looks of things.

Every song that the rock band played--because it

was that sort of church--

every song this rock band played went--

went like, something along the lines of, he's dead.

He died.

I'm sat there, four years old, just

like, they better not be talking about who

I think they're talking about.

In my memory, my tears came out horizontally.

Like, propelled me backwards out of the congregation,

like "Everything Everywhere All at Once."

Oh, that was--that was dicey.

I've never done that move with a mic lead before.

I felt it.

I was like, oh, Jesus, save me now.

Suddenly I'm back on side.

I'm back on side.

If you're there, I'm sorry I did this routine all tour.

Please save me.

I remember hitting the back wall and dropping to my knees,

just crying, just convulsing on the floor, just crying so hard.

And then some fucking old man walked past me.

He's like, oh, James, are you OK?

Why are you crying, mate?

Jesus is dead!

- Oh, Jesus-- - Spoilers!

Jesus died. Huh?

Spoilers?

Well, you won't believe what happens next in the story.

Don't want to spoil anything for you,

but I think it's based on the "Matrix" trilogy.

I mean, they got the idea from the "Matrix" trilogy.

Spoilers.

I wish he had said spoilers.

He didn't.

Instead, he said, oh, don't worry, he died for you.

Sorry, uh, how am I involved in this?

What are you talking about?

Why did he die for me?

Why did Jesus die?

Oh, just because of all the bad things you've ever thought,

said, and done.

Yep, that's why they publicly executed him.

Do you know what the crucifixion is?

I'll explain it to you, James.

You're four years old, and not my child.

I'll explain to you, in Mel Gibson-level detail,

what being crucified is like.

Happy Easter.

So, look, if you're watching this show,

and you're thinking a lot of these stories seem very

low-stakes, I don't get why this grown man has attached

so much guilt and shame onto a bunch

of essentially trivial tales--

please bear in mind that when I was four,

I got my best friend killed by the Romans.

I'll tell a quick positive story about that church

for any Chrizzos that are in.

In that church, when I was seven years old,

that church is where I did my actual first-ever gig,

my first-ever performance in front of an audience proper.

It was a comedy sketch, surprise,

surprise, me and my dad.

My dad wrote it, and no way around this,

cast himself in the role of God.

Fun fact, that's the only thing I've ever told my therapist

that made him laugh out loud.

When I told my therapist about that dog show, he did not say--

and I want to make this clear, that he's

a very good therapist-- he did not say,

well, James, what you got to bear in mind

is, every time you're onstage in front of an audience,

it's not just you up there.

You've got a little sausage dog up there as well.

He didn't say that, but I'm pretty

sure that is how I feel every single night, regardless.

I think every time I'm up here, I'm protecting

a boy the whole time.

And then right here, there's a little sausage dog just

giving me absolutely nothing.

And when I have a go at you lot for not laughing,

really what I'm saying is, wag your tail, Stephen

Minney, please!

Please wag your tail, Stephen Minney!

We look silly.

We look silly, Stephen Minney.

Stephen Minney, we look so silly.

That's when I'm most ashamed after gigs, over the years,

whenever I've had a go at an audience

for not laughing at me enough.

It's cringe, the amount of times I've done it.

It's--it's embarrassing, man.

Worst time I've ever bollocked an audience for being too quiet

was when I was booked to read a Roald Dahl story

to some preschool children.

And there's a number of reasons for why what happened happened.

It's 2018.

I've been booked to read "George's Marvelous Medicine"

to these kids, and that book changed my life.

When I was a little kid, my mum read me

"George's Marvelous Medicine" for the first time.

It was my introduction to comedy.

I didn't know the world could be funny before that.

You'll remember whatever your thing

was that made you love comedy.

It was that book. I was laughing so hard.

I didn't know this feeling existed.

So in 2018, when I'm on my way to Roald Dahl Day,

I do have the rather unrealistic expectations

in my head of, well, I presume I'm going to change these kids'

lives today, which looking back is

100% how that yoga instructor felt on his way to my school.

So I deserve everything that I get in this story.

Secondly, it was a very special day, September the 18th,

which is the official Roald Dahl Day, if you're wondering.

I know most of you know that.

And they had booked out Cardiff Castle for the day.

Every single room of the castle,

there was going to be a different person

reading a different Roald Dahl book to the kids.

Sounds nice.

But in practice what it meant was

I'm stood there in a turret, reading

"George's Marvelous Medicine" to abject silence.

And all I can hear the whole time

is Floella Benjamin having a much better gig

in the banquet hall beneath me, just knocking out

"Charlie and the Chocolate Factory"

to rolling laughter and applause.

I'm on a stool.

There's, like, 35 kids sat on the floor in front of me.

If you've been paying attention to the show,

I shouldn't have to tell you why that's triggering for me.

I'm selling the heck out of this book.

And then George fed his grandmother the medicine,

and she grew so tall she smashed through the ceiling!

All of them just--

just sausage-dogging it the whole time.

All I can hear is--

What do you get when you guzzle down sweets?

From down there.

But the moment when I snapped--

When I had to do an impression--

and I don't know if that's got anything to do with it--

Of the grandmother.

Now, if you need a refresher on "George's Marvelous Medicine,"

she's had the medicine.

She grew so tall, she smashed through the ceiling.

Now she's carried on going, and she smashed through the roof,

and now she's, like, stuck in the roof,

which, I don't want to be a dick, but that's funny.

I know not everyone's been merked by their grandmother

like I have, but that is funny when

that happens to an old person.

That is funny, stuck in the roof.

Would you like a heckle from up here?

Would I like one from up there?

I tell you what, I would like the most

polite person in the world to do it, absolutely.

I would love a heckle from up there.

What's your name?

- Uh, Stuart. - Stuart.

Hello, Stuart.

That's a lovely--very nice formal introduction

to the heckle.

I love it so much.

Go for it, Stuart. Do your heckle.

I need a bit of time to think.

Oh, absolutely, yes.

I appreciate that, yes.

You should think about it for a bit.

Um--

that

is a fully rounded persona.

We can't all see him, but we all know what he looks like.

James, would you like a heckle from up here?

Instantly funny.

And it's very hard, just so you know, to come

up with a funny opening line.

That is very difficult. It was funny.

It was original.

It established who he is.

And then when I said his name, he

was like, I'll just go with-- I'm just going to--

I'm not going to try and milk it.

Stuart.

I know what I've got up my sleeve.

What's your heckle?

Can I have a few minutes to think about it?

That is objectively funny.

Would you like a heckle from down here?

Would I like a heckle from down here?

You've already got imitators.

This is how good you are.

Do you have any idea how long it takes?

Most comedians, it takes us over a decade

before we start to see the imitators come out

of the woodwork, and we start to see our influence

on the world of comedy.

Your first joke ever, and you got a copycat on the front row.

George--and this is the grandmother.

Here we go.

This is the grandmother.

I'm reading to the kids.

And this is the moment that I snapped.

George, you putrid little worm!

You revolting little boy!

Get me out of here this instant!

And then the next words out my mouth were,

are you enjoying this or what?

To preschool children.

That's how insecure I am.

What, I thought they were going to rock up to preschool

Monday morning--

hey, what did you do for Roald Dahl Day?

Oh, I--I saw that James Acaster.

Don't bother.

Here's the worst part--

that was the first of six groups of children

I had to read to that day.

Spoiler alert--had a go at all of them.

Final group, I got right to the end of the chapter

without making any comments.

As I'm closing the book, this far from being home free,

I looked at one kid on his own on the front row

and said, at a talking volume, silence again.

Brilliant.

But that's him for the rest of his life.

That's that kid forever.

He's going to grow up, become an adult,

sit down in a comedy show.

The comedian will tell a joke.

It won't get very much.

Oh, no, silence is bad.

Uh, Kermit!

Round and round we all go.

No one ever gets any better.

No one learns.

Just passing the pain around, man.

Because look, that's what I've got to remember

as well, when I'm up here.

Look, priority number one, I've got to protect the boy, sure.

But it would be ignorant of me if I didn't acknowledge

the fact that you've all got your younger

selves with you as well.

They're all here.

They're all sat in your laps.

Some of you are protecting them.

Some of you are not protecting them.

That's why every comedy show you've

ever been to, emotionally speaking, is a fucking mess.

Every gig, I'm a baby in charge of a creche.

I'm Tommy Pickles.

That's all this is.

I'm Tommy Pickles trying not to be Angelica,

every gig I've ever done.

Because for every kid who cried at a spinning wheel,

there are 35 kids who had to sit there and watch

a kid cry at a spinning wheel.

You think that didn't affect them in some way?

They're going to grow up, sit down in an audience,

and go, why do I immediately feel nervous for the performer?

Why is that?

Oh, I hope he spins good wool--

I mean, tells good jokes.

What the hell?

Did that just come out of my mouth?

And look, all the stories I've told you tonight

I've thought about over and over in my head,

especially during the lockdowns.

I think all of us, in the lockdowns,

reflected a lot on our jobs and our relationship with our work.

I'm not going to make out we had

exactly the same experience.

I'm loaded to fuck.

I think it's important to acknowledge that.

No, because listen, I'm sick and tired of celebrities--

which I am, and will be till the day I die--

being the authority on lockdowns.

They're the main people we've heard

from about what the lockdowns were like, is celebrities.

And sometimes the worst is when they make

out they learnt a profound lesson that

we could all benefit from.

Like, oh, yeah, not a lot of people say this,

but the lockdowns were really good for me.

Before lockdowns, I was a workaholic.

I was burning the candle at both ends, no mistake.

Then lockdown came along, and it

forced me to pump the brakes.

For the first time in my life, I'm taking a step back.

I'm surveying the scene.

I'm like, come, come, now.

Is this how I want to conduct myself?

Do I want to keep doing this job, working with these people?

Is this what I want for my career?

So what I'd say to anyone listening to this is,

hey, you don't have to work all the time.

Stop filling in your diaries with work.

Just pump the brakes, take a step back.

And you, too, will realize you already make enough money

from your food podcast.

Lockdowns one, two, and three were the best days of my life.

I hope we have another lockdown,

and I hope it lasts forever.

Every evening, I was relaxed for the first time

in over a decade, because I wasn't putting

my body through this madness.

I was doing better in the daytimes

as well, looking after myself.

Started doing yoga.

Where has that been all my life?

They keep those things a secret from you in school.

Pop that on the curriculum, please, Blunkett.

I was locked down with my girlfriend as well, a.k.a.

my favorite person, so that was a piece of piss.

Very well-suited to each other.

I know that when you say you're well-suited to your partner,

there's going to be some skeptics in the room.

Fair enough.

Quick story to illustrate how well-suited we are.

You know me.

You know this half of the equation already.

All you need to know about her is

that once she went to get her hair

colored at the hairdressers.

And for reference so that she got

the right color that she wanted,

she brought along a photo of a horse.

So that's who we're dealing with.

I'm head over heels.

It wasn't just a photo of a horse, either.

I asked to see it because I wanted to see

if they got the color right.

She showed it to me. It was a meme of a horse.

A horse meme.

You know, a horse meme.

It was a picture of a horse with a long, luxurious mane.

And then the meme said, maybe she's barn with it,

maybe it's neigh-belline.

You know, neigh, like when a horse talks.

She showed that to a professional.

Yes, I'd like to look like I'm barn with it,

if that's possible.

Much obliged.

Ladies!

I wasn't there when it happened,

but I'm pretty sure everyone who saw that went, bet she

goes out with James Acaster.

It was when the lockdowns opened up again

that I noticed all my anxiety and stress

coming back in full force.

I was on the train from London to Kettering,

and my carriage got taken over by a small gang

of teenage boys.

And if we could all just be adults

and not pretend that that's not terrifying, that'd be great.

Do you know what I mean?

They kicked off immediately.

They're gunning up and down the carriage,

up and down the aisle, pushing each other into the rest of us.

They're throwing stuff.

They're shouting and swearing at the top of their voice.

At one point, the leader jumped to the head of the carriage,

pulled a full bottle of Coke out of his pocket,

and just, head height to the rest of us,

without lining it up, just went, wham!

Like that.

Just sent it down.

It rebounded off of a window--boom, boom!

Nearly took a grown man's eyes out.

And this guy, probably about 40, responded by going--

Just pretended it hadn't happened,

exactly how he used to deal with the bullies

when he was in school.

That's what happened to all of us.

As soon as these kids kicked off,

we all transformed into whatever age

we were the first time someone picked on us.

There was a guy, like a rich-looking businessman in his

50s, sitting further down the carriage, everything expensive.

The kids surrounded him.

They started calling him shitbag,

because he had a shit bag.

And this grown man, who definitely owned

his own company, responded to these kids

by going, yeah, what a shit bag.

Am I right, fellas?

What kind of a loser would own a bag this shit?

We were watching, like, have some dignity, man.

You're bullying your own bag with the kids.

You've got people on the payroll.

At one point, all the kids got their textbooks

out from school, and they start ripping up the pages.

They're balling them up, and then they have a full-on paper

snowball fight across the whole carriage,

and we're all in the crosshairs.

This is textbook paper, remember.

It's glossy. It's got hard edges.

At one point, one kid's got a full-on paper snowball,

and his mate is on the opposite end of the carriage.

And he throws it with all the force of getting

his mate all the way over there,

and he hits a woman who's sat here.

Right in the face.

We all feel it.

Ugh!

Then another woman, who didn't know this woman,

stood up and reprimanded the entire gang.

So I don't know if you've ever been on public transport

and a gang--

always men.

They could be 13, they could be in their 60s,

but they've decided to intimidate

everyone else because they have not

processed their own shit yet.

Every time that happens, it always gets to the point

where a lone woman completely singlehandedly

is forced to confront the entire gang,

while men like me sit there going, please let this work.

I can't even look at her because they'll hit me first.

Please protect this woman.

I'm sorry that I got your son killed.

Surely that's water under the bridge by now, big guy.

Come on, protect this woman.

She's like, you should all be ashamed of yourselves.

And before she got any further, the leader cut her down.

He shouted her down, said a bunch of shit that I'm hoping,

because he's 13, he doesn't understand the full weight of.

But it was fucked.

She sits down in silence.

Rest of the carriage is sadder than it was before.

Next stop, an old man gets up to leave the train.

All you need to know about this old man

is that he was a--he was bald, bald, no-hair man.

Had no hair on his head, this man.

So they absolutely annihilated him.

Whole way down the aisle, they're

shouting bye-bye, baldy, unoriginal shit

he's heard a million times in his life.

And he stepped off onto the platform,

and instead of carrying on going,

he just turned round, looked back

inside the carriage, furious, eyeballs trembling,

just staring at these kids.

Then the doors ding-ding to shut,

and as they're shutting he just goes,

your parents do not love you!

And then it's shut, and then the train--

Your parents do not love you.

Their parents are dead!

How the hell has no one heckled that all tour?

The perfect callback.

Lovely to have a heckler in who appreciates structure.

Also, two things--

I'm gutted that I myself did not think of that callback.

I've done this show more times than I care to remember,

and not once has that occurred to me, even--

even mildly occurred to me.

And secondly, I'm actually glad that I didn't think of it.

Because otherwise I'd be furious

right now, if that was my next line and you had said it.

Maybe one of them very recently buried their mum.

Maybe one of--one of them very recently buried their mum.

Yes, absolutely.

It's a brilliant add-on to the joke.

Structurally, it's sound.

It was too dark, mate.

The way you said it as well.

The delivery of it was very morbid.

Maybe one of them very recently buried their mum.

Sent a chill up everyone's spine.

What the fuck?

I know I said a similar thing.

That's exactly what I said at the start of the show.

You remembered it verbatim.

It's very impressive.

But my God.

It was suicide for the kids.

I'll take the-- oh, hold on a second.

Uh, that guy has just gone way too far.

So well done.

Everyone was thinking that yours was a bit dark,

and then people heard something that someone just

came up with by themselves.

Um, who's the person who shouted?

Give me a little wave. Hello, mate.

How are you. What's your name?

- Richard. - Richard.

Richard.

Um, what is wrong with you, mate?

- Huh? - How long have you got?

How long have I got? Do you know what?

I've got as long as I like.

Your parents do not love you!

- They're dead! - They're dead.

Yeah, OK.

Let's do it all again.

Everyone remember what they said.

Yeah, yeah.

Structurally, I like--I love that.

That's a structural callback.

Uh, it's great to hear it, absolutely.

You know, I'm annoyed on two levels.

I'm annoyed that--

First of all, I didn't think of that.

I've done this show God knows how many times.

I've never thought of that punchline.

And secondly, I'm glad that I didn't do it, because--

because otherwise, I'd be very annoyed that you've just got

to the punchline before me.

But that's great.

Your par--their parents were dead.

Just were buried.

Oh, that's dark.

That is too--I mean, I know that structurally,

that's sound as well.

I said that earlier.

But that was-- that was way too--

and you said it in a voice that was like--

Maybe they finished burying their parents recently.

And that was pretty-- that was pretty rough.

But like, you know, well done, anyway, for trying.

Well done. Well done.

It was suicide.

Whoa!

Whoa.

I don't know if some of you heard that.

That was way dark.

You're out--you're out of the woods now.

That was way darker.

What the hell?

Who said that?

Give me a wave.

Who said that?

What's your name?

- Richard. - Richard.

What's wrong with you, Richard?

What is wrong with you, mate?

How long you got?

How long I got?

Quite a while.

Quite a while.

I mean, not as long as I had the first time

you said that, but a pretty long time, I guess.

And they just carried on bullying everyone, these kids.

And now it was my turn.

I was sat in the back row, praying

to God that these kids were fans of "Would I Lie to You?"

And they surrounded me.

The leader sat in the row in front of me.

He's got his back to me.

His mate sits opposite him.

They're dead-legging each other.

They're paying me no mind.

Three of them stand leaning against the wall

behind me, the back wall.

In my memory, they've got toothpicks in their mouths.

I know that that's not real.

I know that's make-believe in my head,

but that's how it felt. But they were paying me no mind.

The final two kids stand right here.

One of them's leant against the luggage.

He's looking up and down the carriage, paying me no mind.

But one of them, flush to the seats,

eyeballing me the whole time, paying me all of his mind.

And I'm sitting there, and I'm just looking out the window.

I'm pretending like I've got no idea any of this is happening,

like this is how I ride a train in the modern day.

I don't sit there and scroll on my phone like a normal person.

I look out the window like an Enid Blyton character.

What a splendid day on the railway!

Is that Cecil?

It's Cecil Armitage, the rapscallion.

Toodle-oo, Cecil.

We're off to the city.

This kid.

Oi!

Look at him.

Fuck you looking at?

Exceptional work.

I was dancing with the best of them.

Because here's the thing--

I know the rules of the jungle.

Someone says oi, you got to acknowledge them.

But if you look at someone, you're asking for trouble.

My only way out of that would have been if this kid said oi,

and I'd gone--

Yes? How may I help you, young chap?

It looks like rain.

I hope you brought your galoshes.

Is that Montgomery?

It's Montgomery St. Stephens, the ne'er-do-well.

Toodle-oo, Montgomery!

Merry Christmas to you and yours.

Oi.

Fuck you looking at?

Oh, you said oi, so I looked at you.

That's what I said.

The little kid sat at a spinning wheel again.

Oh, you said oi, so I looked at you.

You being fucking cheeky to me, mate?

I'm 36 in this story.

Scientifically impossible for me to be

cheeky to a 13-year-old boy.

But I didn't say that to him.

I didn't know what to say to this kid.

I've seen everyone try every approach with these teenagers.

None of it had worked.

I don't think I would have said what I said at any other point

in my life, but I was fresh out of lockdown.

I still had lockdown brain.

I was thinking like I thought in lockdown.

I'd been talking a lot in lockdown

about how I wanted to deal with confrontation, especially when

it came to hecklers at gigs.

I'd been talking about it loads during therapy

sessions over Zoom that I could afford any time I felt like it.

So I was like, I'm going to respond

to this child like an adult.

I'm going to respond with honesty.

You being fucking cheeky to me, mate?

Why are you trying to scare me?

Oh, you're fucking scared, are you?

Yeah, I am scared.

You're scaring me right now.

When I said, you're scaring me right now, everything about

him changed.

The whole bravado just melted away, and he was

just a 13-year-old kid again.

His face was proper like, what have I become?

Like he's trying to take it all in, what's gone on.

He starts panicking and looking at the leader in front of me.

Now he's like a McDonald's employee searching

for his supervisor, who's just like,

this wasn't in the manual.

I need your help back here.

This one's saying he's scared.

The leader shot up.

He's looking down at me over the back of his seat.

Fuck you scared for?

Uh, he said oi, so I looked at him.

And he said, fuck you looking at?

And I know that sounds silly to you,

but I can't deal with that.

Like, I'm anxious at the best of times.

If a stranger is directly confrontational to me,

I'm going to freeze up.

And like, you've all been throwing stuff in people's

faces and shouting people down and intimidating

the whole carriage.

And now you've completely surrounded me,

and I think in this situation there's,

like, fight, flight, or flop, and I'm flop every time.

I know that about myself.

So this is really scary right now.

I'm genuinely scared.

And he looked at me and he went,

right, give him some room.

He's scared.

Back away from him. Back away.

Give him some space.

What are you scaring people for?

Whole country's been through enough for the last two years.

You're scaring people on the train?

Yeah, yeah, real proud of yourself.

Get those goddamn toothpicks out of your mouths!

When I first told that kid that I was scared,

I remember seeing all the other adults in the train look at me

as if to say, well, I guess this

is the first one of us to die.

When they left me alone, everyone was like, sorry,

I could have said that?

I've been scared the whole time.

What are you talking about?

You threw a bottle of Coke at my eyes.

It's fucked up!

The rest of the journey, they left everyone alone.

Just on their phones, they're chatting amongst themselves.

We got to their stop at Wellingborough

and they got off.

They all had to file past me to get to the door, these kids.

I don't want to boast, but four out of seven fist bumps.

Pretty good going. That's pretty good.

It's not as cool when they're accompanied

by the phrase "sorry we scared you," but I'll take it.

You were the scariest of them all, little man.

Home safe. Home safe.

Look, that story, more than any other story in this show,

I always want to stress to the audience that it's 100% true.

Because I'm aware that it doesn't sound true.

I'm aware that it sounds like too

neat of a metaphor for how I'm dealing

with hecklers these days.

And when I say that they all left me alone as well, that's

the only thing I've ever told my therapist where

he's been like, what else you been

lying about over the years?

What's this?

They didn't leave you alone.

But they did.

Everything in that story, 100% true.

All of it happened.

When the guy shouted, your parents do not love you,

I actually saw that on a different train,

and I airdropped it into this story.

But all of it happened.

It's all true stuff that I saw.

Just so we can all leave trusting each other,

there is one part of the show which I did fabricate.

I'll just come clean now and we can

all leave knowing what's what.

The only part of the show that wasn't true

is when I told you that Stephen Minney was my Cub Scout leader.

That's not true. He wasn't.

He wasn't my Cub Scout leader.

He was my Venture Scout leader.

I was 15.

I didn't want to admit that to you at the time.

But that is what happened.

And he wasn't called Shere Khan.

He was called Steve, and I still didn't put it together.

Uh, but no, thank you.

I appreciate all the heckles.

And listen, when I started doing this show two years ago,

um, I didn't know what the result of this experiment

would be.

I basically decided that I was going to let the audience do

whatever they want, so that it forced

me to address my own shortcomings as a comedian.

But I didn't know what would happen if I told you you could

do whatever you wanted, and what

I've learnt is you were doing whatever you wanted anyway.

None of you have behaved any differently tonight

than you would have if you'd seen me on a tour

with all the rules intact.

That's what I've learned, is that some of you,

if you heckled, you would have heckled anyway.

If you didn't, you wouldn't have.

I've had every single type of gig that I normally

have on tour, from almost abject silence

for the whole two hours, to laughter wall-to-wall,

to heckling constantly, to one person

heckling and the whole room turning on them, to gigs

that verge on violence and we have to,

like--but that's every tour I've ever done.

But I'm not trying to change you guys.

I'm trying to change my response to you,

and my response to you used to be bad.

And whatever the situation, I would tip it over.

So look, if you haven't enjoyed the show tonight,

please take some consolation in the fact it

used to be a lot worse.

A lot worse.

Trying to take care of myself offstage as well as onstage.

That's where you do most of your work, is--

I went on holiday.

I've tried to take more time off,

you know, pumping the brakes and taking a step back.

My girlfriend and I went on holiday.

We went away for a week to, uh--

to Disney World in Florida.

Brought the boy with me, of course.

Like I'm going to put him onstage in front of you guys

but not take him to Disney?

Come on, I'm not a monster.

And everyone we told we were going to Disney for a week,

they all responded by going, what, without kids?

Oh, we're taking kids with us.

I took the boy with me, she brought the girl along,

and they had a great time the whole week,

the boy and the girl running around Disney having a blast.

Because for me--

I'm not going to end the show by telling you what

makes a good relationship.

We're all different.

It's different for all of us.

But for me, a good relationship is when you're not just

both getting on with each other in the here and now,

but simultaneously, every past version of yourselves

is getting on with each other as well.

And you don't have to protect your younger self around them,

because they like them, they love them,

and they want to protect them as well.

And look, I know that bit isn't funny.

I know it's not a funny bit, but that's

what happens if you actually write

comedy from a place of love.

It's not funny.

That's the shittest bit of the show.

Thank you so much for coming, everyone.

You've been lovely.

I've had a lot of fun.

I'll see you another time. Thank you.

Good night.