Comedown Machine

before ode to the mets: “🎶oh oh oh ozempic🎶…i don’t know why i’m looking at fab. you skinny bitch! who wrote that song? what did they get paid for it? i don’t know why i’m asking fab. a million dollars? no one’s ever gonna remember the original. that song is done for.”

after ode to the mets: *whispers* “thank you.”*retching sounds into the mic*

“chicago….chihuahua” (pronounced chi-wow-wow)

“i know a lot of people from chicago.” *crowd cheers* “i didn’t say whether they’re good or bad.”

“nancy pelosi was at our hotel, is she from here? no. just here for something to do with obama? fucking sith fucking lord. pelosi. obama’s on the fence. in his anakin era.”

“how are you doing in the back? i see you back there! that’s a lie, i can’t see you. i feel you back there! i’ve sat in seats like that for pearl jam. couldn’t hear shit. i hope they’re better these days with…what’s it called….speaker technology”

*albert throws a pick at fab* *fab opens his mouth and points to it* *albert throws another pick at him and he tries to catch it in his mouth* julian: “was that a pick? that was like a wiffleball! that’s a choking hazard!” fab: *hits his chest in a ‘fight me’ kind of gesture* julian: “sorry the dad is talking” (pretty sure the adults are talking came after this)

“wrong mic!…that’s not a song name. next song, wrong mic!”

after one way trigger: “sorry that song’s like three octaves too high. those are like cat frequencies. what’s up with that?”

“🎶i wish that i’d been noticed🎶…is that your line? did you write that line albert? it’s ok to be vulnerable albert!…just don’t be a pussy.”

*after walking back onstage for the encore, audience is waving their phone flashlights* “woOw…sorry we’re late i was busy sucking fab’s dick backstage! sorry if there are children here. its a joke! ‘what did he say daddy?’ he needed to loosen up, man.”