"I don't know why I'm doing this," he muttered into the microphone, his voice a low, rhythmic drone. "I could be at home, categorized by age-appropriate algorithms. But instead, I’m here. In a room. With you."
The credits rolled over a shot of Stewart standing alone in a cold corridor, looking at a vending machine that didn't take his coins. It was the funniest thing on television, provided you were prepared to feel slightly worse about yourself for watching it. If you'd like to , let me know: Stewart Lee's Comedy Vehicle
He paused, letting the silence stretch until it became uncomfortable, then unbearable, then—briefly—profound. "I don't know why I'm doing this," he