#telethon

Noah Wyle and his family are long-time supporters of Project Angel Food.

For more than 35 years, Project Angel Food has been preparing and delivering medically tailored meals to Angelenos living with serious illnesses, ensuring thousands receive the nourishment and care they need when it matters most.⁠

Project Angel Food telethon | Los Angeles, CA | June 27, 2026

Noah Wyle and Bryan Cranston arrive for Project Angel Food’s 7th annual "Lead with Love: Going the Distance" telethon.

Los Angeles, CA | June 27, 2026

📷 Tommaso Boddi/Getty Images

Noah Wyle on the red carpet for Project Angel Food’s 7th annual "Lead with Love: Going the Distance" telethon.

Los Angeles, CA | June 27, 2026

📷 Tommaso Boddi/Getty Images

"Welcome... to the telethon. We just checked the final numbers from tomorrow morning. We raised... $14,203,114. And eighty-two cents.

(He looks down at the clipboard, then back at the camera.)

"The eighty-two cents... is from a jar of pennies that a little boy named Timmy in Reno is going to knock off his dresser at 3:00 AM. He’ll be trying to steal a cookie. He’ll feel guilty... and donate the change. Thanks, Timmy. Go back to sleep."

(He gestures vaguely behind him, where a massive, fully completed digital scoreboard lights up with the exact final dollar amount.)

"So... the fundraising is officially over. We hit the goal. You can still send money if you want... but it won't change anything. It’s a fixed timeline."

Steven Wright's no energy, completely monotone, totally detached from reality, just leaning against a stool under a single spotlight with a deadpan stare.

(A long, uncomfortable pause. He blinks slowly once.) "David... I’m calling you now. I see you're wearing mismatched socks. One is blue... the other is... a different blue. You're holding a fifty-dollar bill. You thought it was a five. It isn't. Thank you for your future donation." (Takes a slow sip of water. Doesn't look at the glass.) "Sarah... your cat is currently judging you. I know this because... I am also judging you. You’re wondering where you hid the checkbook. It’s in the freezer... inside the frozen peas. It's very cold. Write the check, Sarah. Thank you for your future donation." (Shifts his weight by two inches. Looks slightly to the left of the lens.) "Gary... you just spilled some bourbon on your shirt. It’s going to stain... unless you donate in the next four seconds. Three... two... too late. It’s a permanent stain now. But you should still donate. Thank you for your future donation." (He just stands there. Silence fills the room for ten seconds.) "I knew you were going to laugh at that."

The camera cuts away from the total chaos of the other psychics to Roseanne, sitting there with that massive, wild mop of hair, wearing her signature fuzzy pink sweater, leaning over a crystal ball with a half-eaten plate of food on her desk.

"A Mr. Richard Feder from Fort Lee, New Jersey, writes in to the spiritual world, and he says: 'Dear Roseanne Roseannadanna, I am thinking about making a fifty-dollar donation to the telethon today. Can your third eye look into the cosmic void and tell me if this contribution will bring me peace of mind, or if my wife will find out I used the emergency grocery money?'"

(She sets the letter down, looks dead into the camera, and completely abandons the question.)

"Well, Richard, let me tell you something. You think you’ve got problems with your wife and your fifty dollars? Just last week, I was looking into my crystal ball, trying to peer into the astral plane to see what the stock market was gonna do on Tuesday. And right as the cosmic mists began to clear, and the spirits were preparing to whisper the secrets of the universe into my ear... I looked down into the glass, and I saw a reflection of my own nose. And Richard, right there, sticking straight out of my left nostril, was the longest, thickest, most stubborn, wiry black nose hair you have ever seen in your life! It didn't look like a hair, Richard, it looked like a piece of telephone wire! So I grabbed a pair of tweezers, and I pulled, and I pulled, and my third eye started watering, and my second eye started watering, and the spirit world completely vanished because all I could see were stars! And when it finally came out, it had a little piece of... well, it was gross, Richard! It was a tiny, dried-up piece of—"

(The Steven Wright psychic sitting next to her looks over, his monotone voice completely flat): "Roseanne... you're supposed to tell him about the donation."

(She snaps her head around, completely unfazed.)

"Well, it just goes to show you, Richard Feder! It’s always something! If it’s not a fifty-dollar donation that your wife is gonna scream at you for, it’s a giant, stray nose hair ruining your psychic connection to the afterlife! So Richard, just give us the money anyway, because I can see into next Thursday, and you're still gonna be a cheapskate! Thank you for your future donation!"

5/5. La photo de famille du téléthon à Domitys Morlaix. Sam 31.01.2026, 15h37mn36s. © Jeff Saby.

5/5. La photo de famille du téléthon à Domitys Morlaix. Sam 31.01.2026, 15h37mn36s. © Jeff Saby.