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