NBC Late Night : Behind the Scenes
I see here that either way you owe me about $20 million a year for the next five years. So, yeah, I’ll take that in a lump sum and move to a network that doesn’t fuck me in the ass.
After consulting with our lawyers, we’ve decided to inform you that you can try and collect, but we have more money than you, and lots of KY. Not that we’ll use it, we just like to have smooth buttsex with our stars.
Initiation Code: Sparta. Foxtrot. Susan. Davis.
I know you’re bitter, but that’s no excuse to have my car impounded. Please return my property to me immediately.
Ever since I politely told Conan he could go fuck himself, so far my car’s been stolen and I’m getting random calls on my cell phone that sound like whispers. I’m assuming it’s Conan, so I was wondering if you could talk to him, make it clear this isn’t professional.
Well, Jeff, it was nice knowing you. Can I have your home address? I need to know where to send the flowers.
This isn’t fucking funny. You know what I found in my desk today? An EAR! A fucking ear! Security can’t find the red-headed fuck and Fallon’s not in the building either. Apparently somebody broke into his office and covered the walls with “Red Rum” or some shit, probably one of his alcohol promotions. All I know is that his ass is fired. Stop being an asshole or I’ll cancel your 11:30 show too, you fucking hack.
There’s nothing I can do, even with my Satanic powers. I’m not even sure what Conan is, exactly. All I know is that even I fear what you have unleashed. Farewell, Jeff Gaspin, even the devil weeps for the torture inflicted on your soul.
Oh, and don’t say Conan’s name three times in front of a mirror.
Our access runs out at this point. So we tried saying Conan’s name three times in the mirror, and it actually works, although his erupting from the mirror can get glass shards in your face. He was very polite in turning down our request for an interview, and said that he was having an NBC executive for lunch. We hope their dining is a pleasant experience.