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:
"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." Stewart Lee's Comedy Vehicle
Back on stage, Stewart stood up, brushed off his suit, and looked directly into the lens. He dismantled the joke he had just told, explaining why it wasn't funny, why the audience’s laughter was "the wrong kind of laughter," and how the very concept of a television comedy vehicle was a hollow vessel for the death of British culture. The credits rolled over a shot of Stewart
"Anyway," he said, checking his watch. "That’s eighteen minutes on pears. Let’s do some material about the collapse of the liberal elite." "I could be at home, categorized by age-appropriate
"Perfect," the director replied. "Cut to a close-up of a middle-aged man in the third row looking slightly confused. That’s the 'Vehicle' brand."