All language subtitles for Daniel Sloss - SOCIO (2022)

Ladies and gentlemen, please welcome to
the stage Mr.

Daniel Sloan!

Austin, how are you doing? Are you well?

Thank you so much for coming along.

It's always good just to see so many
people.

And for those of you that have seen me
before, seen my stand -up, thank you

much for coming along.

And for those of you that haven't seen
my stand -up before, good luck.

It might not be for you.

Statistically, it isn't.

I always like people that go to see
comedy that they've never seen before.

just taking a gamble, going to see
someone, just like, yeah, I'm going to

along and laugh.

I'm always curious as to the reasons
why. Why you picked someone, why you

me. And the reason you'll be here if
you've never seen me before is because

friend is a big fan of mine.

And they have promised you that I am
fucking excellent.

For the past two weeks, you've been
listening to them doing shit versions of

jokes.

Just being like, yeah, I mean, I guess
that sounds okay.

There's a lot of pressure riding on your
friend right now.

I can destroy your friendship in the
next hour quite easily.

Not even by doing much, by doing
literally nothing.

I just stand here and just slowly start
masturbating.

Louis C .K. style, just real small, real
good.

Making eye contact with some of you,
skipping over others.

Those of you that I skip over, relieved
at first, but when I make eye contact

with other people, slightly upset.

And that plays on your mind. You're
like, I know I shouldn't care, but he

at literally everyone else. I just want
to know what's up. I want to know what's

up. What's his fucking problem?

And the whole time your friend will just
be like, I swear to God, he doesn't

normally do this.

This is never the, this is always the
show.

This is what they wanted you to see.

If you've been dragged here, also your
friend that's the fan of mine, they're

not going to be watching me for the
whole show. They're going to be watching

watching me to see if you pass their
little friend test.

You survive another day.

It's fucking nice to be back in America
while it's still here.

It's good fun, isn't it?

Come out and visit the dojos.

It's great.

Love coming out here. It's fucking
insane. In a good way. Don't mean that

negative way. Well, I think it's
excellent. I really do. I love coming to

country. Just because it's the only
country I watch the news in.

I don't watch the news in Scotland
because there's nine of us.

I'll just ask my mum what's up. She'll
let me know. She knows everyone.

Most of the time the news in Scotland is
just, guess what America did?

I don't think you just have a problem
with fake news over here. I think the

problem you have is you've just got too
much news.

You've got so many 24 -hour news
stations.

Guys, not that much stuff's happening.

In the rest of the world, when nothing
happens, the newscaster's just like, mm

-mm.

And we move on with life. You just fill
your head with irrelevant information.

Like, last time I was here, a man shot
two people to death with a gun and they

died. And I'm going to put my career on
the line and say that I think that is a

dick move.

I'll be brave. I'll say what no one else
is willing to say. It's a dick move.

He went to prison for 25 years.

That's the full story. I gave you all of
the information there in less than five

seconds.

45 fucking minutes.

I watched this newscaster get updates
that were not updates.

They added no more relevant information
to the story.

It's just in breaking news, the man who
murdered the two people was described by

his neighbours as a marijuana -smoking
porn hoarder.

Don't make me like him.

Those are very mixed signals.

He just said he was a dick. Now he
sounds cool.

No, I'm just like, well, were they like
dealing in porn?

I feel like if you're going to give me
any relevant information about people in

that story, why not give me a relevant
information on those two people that

murdered? The innocents. Let me know
what they were like as human beings so

I can work out if I care that they're
dead.

Because I might not.

They might have been shit.

Do you think only good people get
murdered?

No!

Sometimes they accidentally get a cunt,
right?

And it's up for me to decide whether I'm
sad.

You don't tell me I'm sad. You give me
information and I'll work out how it

makes me feel I'm a big boy.

I wanted to be like this just in. One of
the men who was murdered was frequently

seen by his neighbours purchasing orange
juice that had pulp in it.

Good.

Get his parents too, he learned it from
somewhere.

Good riddance, I say.

How dare he?

How dare he call orange juice with pulp
in it juice?

It's not juice.

It's not juice if you have to chew it.

Who chews juice? Nobody chews juice. You
don't drink food, you don't chew juice.

Nobody chews juice. If you're not on
board with this routine, by the way,

this for five minutes.

I rely on nothing other than the fact
that who -choose -juice sounds funny in

silly little accent.

At the end of the show, I cash in on
your racism by selling shirts. They say

-choose -juice, and on the back of them
it says, I do because I'm a fuckhead.

Listen, lumps in a drink are
unacceptable.

If there were lumps in any other drink,
you would be seething.

Get a glass of wine. Oh, I love a glass
of wine. This is bloody lovely. The fuck

we saying this?

Why do I need a toothpick after a
liquid?

Apples are a fruit. They make a juice.
Is there pulp in apple juice? No. Apple

juice has its shit together.

Pineapples, also a fruit, I'm told. They
make a juice.

Is there pulp in pineapple juice? No.

Pineapple juice has its fucking shit
together, right? And I can see a lot of

very confused by the start of the show.

Being like, fucking what is... He's got
some very strong opinions on pulp.

I reckon, from what I've gathered so
far, I reckon Floss hates smoothies.

Wrong.

I love smoothies. Smoothies are
delicious, please.

And that's not a double standard, by the
way, because smoothies are honest

within their title. They're like, well,
it's smoothie.

That's fine.

That is correctly labelled as far as I'm
concerned. That's not false

advertising.

But you've called popular artists just
juices. It's not just that you have to

chew it. No!

In the interest of fair and reasonable
debate, who here prefers orange juice

with poppy nuts? Take your hands up. Not
going to shout at you. Not abusive.

What's your name, sir?

Angel? Of course it fucking is.

Are you from Austin?

Where are you from, sir?

Chicago? Oh, cool. What brings you down
here?

Me? You came all the way. I'm in Chicago
in like two weeks, buddy.

That's amazing. Thank you so much for
coming, Angel. You are indeed an angel

coming.

Hello, Angel.

We live in a world now that's a little
bit... too polarized. We exist now in a

world where if you disagree with someone
on one thing, you tend to hate them,

regardless of what views they have
towards other things, views that you

actually share. I think it's a very
stupid way to live your life, and I

it's going to be the fall of Western
civilization.

So, I'm going to try and understand
where you're coming from, I'll then

my position, and you'll naturally agree
with me, because I have a microphone,

punchlines, and I've set you up to fail.

So just so I can understand where you're
coming from, Angel, Angel, if you want

the taste of orange, right, with the
experience of pulp,

Have a fucking orange.

Like, you don't want orange juice. You
want orange, and they already do those.

They're called orange juice, right? Now,
Angel, whatever you drink in the

privacy of your own home, that's
absolutely fine with. But here's my

with you and your people, okay?

Let's say I get drunk tonight, as I
fully intend to do. These are gin and

tonics. My mother didn't raise a bitch.

After the show, you see me, I'm not,
I'll be honest with you, I'm not

the gin and tonics well. The Texas sun
gets to me, I'm just, I'm too

I'm incoherent, I'm wandering the
streets. You're a lovely man, you know

no place for a drunken Scotsman. You
take me back to your hotel, you stick me

the spare bed, you kiss my forehead
goodnight. Bit weird, I'm fine with it.

Next morning you wake up, you're like,
Daniel, I imagine you're kind of

hungover, I've got some juice, do you
want some juice? I'm like, oh, juice

within the spot, what kind of juice?

Oh, Daniel, it's orange juice. Oh,
angel, you are an angel.

Orange juice would hit the spot. At that
point, Angel, do you specify to me that

it had pulp in it?

No, you fucking don't, do you? Because
you're a bag of shit, right?

Just like the rest of you pop -loving
fucks.

You never tell us innocent civilians
what you intend to do. You just expect

to join in with your kinky fucking
fetish.

It is unforgivable. It is a dog act. You
go downstairs with the promise of

refreshment and you come back up with
this tangerine miscarriage of lies.

Giving someone pulpy orange juice
without telling them that it's got pulp

is the equivalent to shoving your finger
up someone's ass during sex.

Okay?

Some people enjoy it at first!

All I'm trying to say is, I think some
people deserve to die.

And I really, I really do mean that.

Don't get me wrong. Death is bad most of
the time. Most of the time death is

awful. 60, 65 % of the time death is
gah.

But can we admit that occasionally death
is mm.

Put on with this election.

Really, every death has devastated you.
You've never secretly enjoyed one of

them.

One celebrity or politician you're never
particularly aligned with.

They eventually die and no part of your
soul goes... And I can feel some of you

pulling back. And I understand why
you're pulling back. Because that

there, it goes against your core values.
But let me sort of remind you that none

of you were born with core values.

They were all lied into you. Okay?

You were all raised with the same lie I
was raised with. Every life is precious.

Every life is a miracle.

No.

No, no, no.

Life is not precious. You can make it
accidentally.

How precious can that be?

I've never accidentally made a watch.

Life's a miracle. Okay. What bit?

Sincerely, Wapit. How is it made?

Do you know how you were made?

Your dad came in your mum.

That's only a miracle if she's hideous.

What a horrible thing for you to say
about your own mother.

And your mum didn't come because your
dad's bad at it.

Some of you still disagree. You'll be
sad. They'll be like, no, Daniel, no,

that's not true. No, I value all life on
this planet. No, you don't. Nobody

values all life on this planet, right?
And I can prove it to you. Let's say I

give you a magical list. There's 100
blank spaces on this list. You write

the names of any 100 people. The second
you write down their name, they will die

instantly and painlessly, and it will
never be traced back to you.

I give you this list.

Can you honestly tell me you do not
think that you have the capabilities to

the world a slightly better place?

I just watched 900 of you go.

I mean, off the top of my head.

I could give you sex.

Let's not even get political. It's too
fucking easy in this day and age to

a flag in the sand and have half the
people clap about where you chose to put

your flag in the sand. Let's keep
politics out of it. And let's just go,

just people that you don't deserve to
be.

Right? This list doesn't exist, and it's
never going to exist, okay? And if it

did exist, I wouldn't share it with you.
I've got enemies, mainly in Indiana.

They know what they did.

I'm just saying, when you're walking
around the shops, you can't listen to

podcast anymore. Just have a little
hypothetical genocide.

Pass the time.

Right? Just walking around being like,
Martin Shkreli, he needs to go.

That farmer bro, he needs to die, he's a
bad egg. He's on my list.

Alex Jones, he's just a bad man. He
lies, he spreads hate, they'll probably

rid of him. And then somebody cuts in
front of you and you're like, and you.

99 for society, 1 for me.

Understand, I do not think you should be
allowed to kill someone and I do not

think the government should be allowed
to kill someone. I'm just saying that

sometimes there are people who come onto
the planet and they leave the world a

worse place than when they arrived and
they did it intentionally.

All I'm saying is when these people
eventually cop it, get the fuck in.

it.

That's it.

Now I get called sociopath a lot.

I've been called a sociopath roughly 5
,000 times in the last six months. I

understand where those allegations came
from. I did a special that has now

resulted in about 40 ,000 couples
breaking up and over 100 divorces.

Did you get a divorce because of my
show?

Fucking get in, sir. Well done.

And some people have the audacity to
suggest I'm mug about those stats.

I am very happy. I broke up sad
relationships, bad relationships, static

relationships, toxic relationships. I
didn't break up any positive

relationships. How can I prove that?
Because if a 28 -year -old can break up

your relationship with a joke, it wasn't
that fucking strong in the first place.

Jigsaw was originally meant as a love
letter to single people. Just let you

that there's nothing wrong.

being seen as a perfectly normal thing.
It just happens to resonate with a lot

of people and make good decisions for
themselves.

And none of it was true love. I love
true love. I'm not a fucking sceptic

it comes to that shit. I'm a proper
romantic. I know it's fucking real.

Because I think of my parents, man.

30 years they've been married. To this
day, disgustingly in love with each

other. And I know it's real love because
at least once a month my mum will phone

me up randomly out of the blue and
she'll be like, I'm gonna fucking kill

And every month she doesn't.

True love.

You've not seen true love until you've
seen your mum hurt herself and your dad

go... He obviously checks, but he's
like, are you okay?

I've been called a sociopath well before
I started stand -up, in all honesty,

and I have a general rule for myself.

If more than five people accuse you of
being something, have a check.

It's unlikely that they had a meeting.

So I did some research, right? There are
15 personality traits that define a

sociopath. If you have 10 or more of
these personality traits, you are a

sociopath. The average human being will
have three of these personality traits.

I have seven.

Eight if I'm hungover.

Not enough to be concerning, but enough
to be concerning.

I want to think back to the first time I
was called a sociopath to see if I

remembered. And I do because, you know,
you never forget your first.

First time I was called a sociopath, I
was eight years old.

Yeah, it's a bit young.

It wasn't by a doctor or anything like a
scientist or psychologist. It was by my

gran.

Which is worse.

Now, there is context for this. I was
strangling her to death.

And they were her last words. No.

My gran and grandad, they own a caravan,
which is like a shitty trailer that

middle class people live with in the UK.

And it's like a holiday thing. They own
a caravan and it's in a place called

Dornach in the north of Scotland. And
every summer, my grandparents would

their grandchildren up to spend a week
in this caravan because they're old and

they've forgotten what children enjoy.

You know that age that your grandparents
get to where they invite you to shit

things and you have to go because
they'll die soon.

And your parents don't want your last
words to them to be, No!

And then 20 years later they're still
alive and you're like, you fucking

assholes. God damn it.

Well played, vegan.

Well played. You win this one.

So my gran's up there, right? I'm
outside.

She's enjoying this work, son.

And she's reading Reader's Digest. Now,
in this particular issue of Reader's

Digest is a sociopath test.

This psychologist claims that he's come
up with a story that has a question at

the end. And he alleges that people who
are sociopaths will get the answer to

this question instantly.

But people who are not sociopathic will
not get the question right. Not only

will they not get it right, they'll be
confused by the question. It won't make

any sense to them. My gran's obsessed
with the idea of this.

She's desperate to know if she's a
sociopath.

She's not.

That's the first sign of knowing.

Right? She's the nicest woman I've ever
met. I'm 28 years old. She still blows

on my soup if she thinks it's too hot.

Yeah, she's a sweetheart.

She's racist as fuck. But despite that,
she's, you know.

My grad's sitting there. Now, I didn't
know what she was doing at the time. I

just know that she failed the sociopath
test. She never told me that she failed

it. I just remember her sitting there
being like, oh, sociopath test. Being

quiet for five minutes and then going,
no.

Which is arguably the most sociopathic
thing she's ever fucking done.

But now she knows the secret of who's a
sociopath. She wants to see who she

knows that's slipped under the radar.

My mum walks into the caravan.

Her daughter -in -law.

She's always been suspicious.

She wants to know if my mum's a
sociopath. Not a chance. Not a chance.

Sloss is a sociopath.

One of the kindest, most empathetic
people I know. Also a viciously

woman. Outsourced by the UN because
she's one of the leading experts in the

world on mercury emissions and
greenhouse gases. This does not mean,

that she is not stupidly fucking naive.

I forget that me and my mother have
lived very different lives. Like, she's

never done drugs and I'm a fan.

She's so naive to the world of drugs, I
forget how innocent she is. When I was

17 years old, I just started doing stand
-up comedy.

So the nights I wasn't gigging, my
friends would come round to my house,

wait until my mum and dad went to sleep,
and then while they were asleep, we'd

sneak out in the back garden and we'd
smoke as much marijuana as we possibly

could. But we didn't want to get caught,
right? Because marijuana is still very,

very illegal in Scotland.

Fortunately, we were 17 years old, and
therefore, geniuses.

So we decided that before we came in,
we'd just douse ourselves in aerosol,

deodorant cans, just all the time.
Because that's a normal thing that

outside to do.

Like, as if four boys were going to go
out in the back garden and then come

in smelling like DJs.

And my mum and dad were going to be
like, oh, they went outside to do, yeah,

that makes sense, that makes sense.

Fuck the environment.

Now, one morning, after a night of
fucking smoking weed, I come downstairs

my mum's in the kitchen. Now, I'm used
to seeing her at home. That's where her

office is. I'm not used to seeing her
furious, though. I walk into the

She just looks at me. She's like, I'm
very, very disappointed in you.

And I'm like, I'm a 17 -year -old
comedian. I'm very aware of that.

What? No, bitch. Didn't say that. I
would never dare say that to my mother.

I was like, why, Mummy Bear? What's
wrong? Who hurt you?

She goes, guess what I found in the
garden?

And that annoyed me.

Mothers will never directly accuse you
of the thing that they know you've done.

They'll just vaguely accuse you of
something in a general direction and

run towards the admission with open arms
because they think it proves that

you're a good person. It's a very stupid
line of inquiry, and I know it's a

stupid line of inquiry because it
doesn't exist anywhere in the world

mothers. You've never heard... Mr Smith,
open up, it's the police!

Mr. Smith, I can see you in there. Come
to the front door. Okay, he's coming.

Hi,

Mr. Smith. Me and my partner just have a
couple of questions for you, if you

don't mind.

Guess whose body we found in the river?

Oh, was it that guy who I murdered?

Oh, fuck. Oh, fuck. Oh, fuck.

Oh, how did you get me to do that? Oh,
you got me, Officer Mum, you fucking

moron.

what I found in the garden.

Dog shit.

She didn't say anything. She goes into
her back pocket. She brings out an empty

can of deodorant.

Sticks it on the table.

And I'm like, fuck.

I've been rumbled. I'm terrified that
I'm about to be in trouble.

But I am also secretly impressed by my
mother's levels of deduction.

She's worked out I'm a drug addict from
an empty can of aerosol.

I can't fathom that level of
intelligence.

I'm sat there looking at this checkmate
piece, trying to work out how I'm out of

the game already.

Just so fucking confused. Trying to
fathom that level of intelligence.

She mistakes my silence for me being
like, I'm going to play it cool.

I don't know what this is. I have no
idea what this is.

She sees me and she gets more angry.
She's like, fine, I'll say it. I'll say

I'll say it. This is how naive my mother
is. I'll say it. You and your friends

have been sniffing deodorant cans.

You're a fucking moron.

She's too precious for this world. Not a
chance she's passing the sociopath

test. Sure enough, my gran answered the
question. My mum's got no idea.

Then my dad walks in.

Gran, gran.

She wants to know if her son's a
sociopath.

He could be.

He's definitely got more of the
personality traits of my mother,

than me. My father's not a violent man
in any way, shape or form, but he is

incredibly dangerous.

My dad is the only man I know of that is
banned from the British version of the

show BattleBots.

You know BattleBots where the robots
fight each other? It's called Robot Wars

the UK. My father's banned from that
show. Why?

Because he went on it two years in a
row, his robot got destroyed, he then

snapped, locked himself in a basement
for six months, and then invented a

that the BBC described as legally a
weapon.

He's... He's also very coldly
analytical. His sense of humour is one

funniest, but... I don't want to say
cruel, but... Right, here's an example.

When my mother was diagnosed with my
youngest brother, she... I don't like...

She still has him. It's very serious.

She was about eight months pregnant,
right? It's her fourth child. And one

my dad comes home from work. He's not a
bad husband. He's just occasionally a

bit of an idiot and a bit lazy. He comes
in the house. He lies down on the

couch. And my mum's like, in what
fucking world? In what world is this how

you're spending your evening?

Martin, I'm eight months pregnant. There
are some things I physically could no

longer do around the house because of my
size. For example, the dishes. I could

no longer get into the sink to do the
dishes because there's human life in the

way. Can you please just try and make
this last month a little bit easier for

me? That night, while she slept, my dad
welded a semicircle into the sink

so she could get in to do the dishes.

That's fucking sociopathic.

Much to my surprise and my father's
dismay, when my gran asked him the

he didn't know the answer. He was
annoyed at himself. He's a problem

He's normally very good at these sort of
riddles. He said, I can't believe it. I

don't know. Ask me again. Ask me again.
Ask me again.

Couldn't get it. They all sat around
discussing what the possible answer to

sociopath test is.

Apparently, at that point, an eight
-year -old me turned around and got the

answer imminently.

Now I will ask you the question. If you
think you know the answer, please stick

your hand up, don't shout out. The
reason I want you to stick your hand up

instead of shouting is because for those
of you that get this question right,

and it's going to be roughly 20 % of
you, this is going to seem like the most

obvious answer in the world to you.

The second I ask the question, you're
going to go, oh, fucking, yeah,

Really look around and notice how little
other people get this question right.

And for those of you that don't get the
question right, don't worry, just look

at how many sociopaths you know.

Here it is. A woman is attending her
mother's funeral.

While at the wake, she meets a man who
she's never met before. He's nice. He's

charming. Despite the situation, he
actually manages to make her laugh. She

really enjoys the company.

But she's got to go say goodbye to
guests as they're leaving, say hello to

guests as they're arriving, take the
flowers, put them somewhere safe so they

longer wilt.

45 minutes later, she finally gets a
little breather, a moment of respite,

she wants to strike up a conversation
with this affable, handsome, charming

again. But when she looks around, she
can't find him anywhere. He's gone, and

she's devastated.

So the next day, she murders her sister.

Why?

Straight away, good, good, good, good,
good.

What's your name in the front row there?

Ashley. Why does she murder her sister,
Ashley?

So she can see the man again? It's
absolutely spot on. Now, for those of

still too innocent to understand what
the fuck just happened, allow me to

explain. The one thing she wants to see
is the man.

The circumstances that she met the man
under was a family funeral.

Therefore, he must be a family friend.

So if she wants to bump into him, all
she has to do is create another family

funeral, and logically he'll attend that
one too, where she can bump into him

and rekindle the romance.

Sociopath.

Do you think you're a sociopath, Ashley?

Hmm?

You question it. That's a very good sign
that you're not, by the way.

For anyone that got the question right,
please do not have an existential

crisis. The test is horseshit.

It's not a valid test. It was in the
Reader's Digest. There isn't a shred of

truth behind it. But my parents and my
grandparents didn't know this at the

time. All they knew was that if you got
the question right, you were an

sociopath, and they'd been stuck in it
for 45 minutes, and then an eight -year

-old me turns around and just goes, it's
so she can see the man who she likes

again. And my grandma was like, ah!

I was too young to know what the word
sociopath meant. All I knew is that I

wasn't allowed a dog for 10 years.

But that question really stuck with me,
man. I was like, why did I get that

question right and why did my family
not? Why did Ashley get this question

and why did the rest of us not?

If it's not sociopathy, which it
categorically is, then what's the

how our brains work? And I've worked
out.

Depends on whether you're a logical or
an emotional person.

If you look at that question and you
take away empathy and sympathy and all

those other things that do not matter,
and you look at that question with cold

hard logic, it's very easy to work out.
What does she want? The man. How does

she meet the man? Family funeral. How do
you meet him again?

Recreate the circumstances. Very coldly
logical all the way through. Very

simple. That's what I've worked out
about myself.

I value logic over emotion.

And the reason I value logic over
emotion is because that is logical.

And the people who get upset by that
tend to be emotional.

Now, don't get me wrong, emotional
people. I think you're beautiful. I

you're sweet. I think you're kind. And I
think you're pure. But never forget how

utterly fucking pointless you are to the
human race. Okay?

You are the bane of every logical
person's existence with your love of

your need of hugs.

As a society, we have to go as slow as
our slowest member and that's every one

of you fuckers crying over cats.

You are a burden and a nuisance to our
progression.

Now to the emotional people currently
getting upset by this routine, allow me

remind you, I haven't specified who you
are. You just know who you are and

you're currently getting upset about it
because that's all you're fucking good

at.

You are never happier than when you are
the victim. But why would you say that?

Because you're like this.

You're the end of reason. You're the end
of rational debate. And you are the

reason why Trump is president.

It is on you.

It is on you.

Of course you're not entirely... Well,

I mean, that's...

Well, that's it. Let's not fucking...
Aye, aye, aye, aye, aye, aye, aye, aye,

aye, aye, aye, aye.

First of all, none of this is going in
the special.

You, on the other hand, can get to fuck.

Fourth right can't... Oh, Jesus Christ.
Here we go.

We'll get the one at the top. I think
it's fair to throw a Nazi out. That

like a rational thing.

I've got it. I've got it. Hey, hey. In
his defense, I do look pretty fucking

Aryan. Okay?

But, uh, yeah.

I don't understand how you attend...
Shh! You can be quiet, too.

I don't understand how you thought this
was the show for you.

I can't! I can't!

I just can't imagine just sitting at
home, just watching Netflix, being like,

fucking, God, this guy hates
relationships.

I bet he also hates the Jews.

Like, that's, how does you, how does
your fucking mind work?

Jesus fucking Christ, yeah.

What an interesting gig.

Thought so highly emotional. Jesus
Christ, what a bitch. Jesus.

So impassioned.

You made a lot of people's lists this

evening, sir.

Emotional people, right? I think you're
great. Most of my friends are emotional.

I know you're kind, I know you're pure,
but it's just, you know, you're good for

some things. Of course you are. Of
course you are. You're good for poetry.

The lowest form of art that currently
exists.

And I say that as a comedian.

You're also good at fucking. I'll give
you that, emotional people. You are

very good at fucking. Because for you
it's not fucking, it's making love.

If there's eye contact, it's old school,
you know their name, I respect it.

Never have sex with a logical person,
we're too coldly analytical about the

whole process, just... Linda, I've read
two books on this

subject. If you're not coming, it's
because you're broken, okay?

Oh, here come the tears.

Also understand, when I say emotional, I
do not mean having emotions. Having

emotions doesn't make you emotional.
That makes you a human being. We all

emotions. I have emotions.

Emotional people are the ones that do
not keep control of their emotions. They

brag about the lack of control they have
over them. I lost my shit. I went

mental. Go to jail.

If I bragged about losing control of my
car with the same advantage that you

brag about losing control of your
emotions, I would rightfully be never

to drive again. There is nothing
impressive, nor endearing about not

control of your emotions. It is pathetic
and it is weak. Okay, that was so

theopathic.

Understand, I do not think crying is
weak. I'm not going to be one of these

that tells you, I'd be like, no,
crying's for the weak. Crying's the

Crying is the tits. If you don't do it
enough, I recommend you do. It's like

bleeding a radiator.

You just get that fucking stress out
from time to time. Sometimes I will stop

myself from crying. Of course I will.
Not because I think it's weak, but just

because I don't think it'll logically
help the situation I'm in. Right? I

know if you've ever been in a stressful
situation with a bunch of friends.

You're all trying to get through this
horrible moment. Then one of your

gets so stressed that they start crying
and you're like, yeah, that'll fucking

help.

This is excellent. Now I have two
problems.

In that moment, I'll be the one to suck
it up, nominate myself.

To be the one, I'd be like, right, I'll
just not cry. And I know that's not

healthy. Balling up your feelings is not
good. That's why, if I ever have to

prevent myself from crying, I will force
myself to cry.

I'll get into bed. I strongly recommend
you do this.

Just do it once a month. See if it works
for you. It's better than most forms of

meditation. Two balls of wine. Get into
bed. Drink one of them in under 45

minutes. Then, watch YouTube videos of
soldiers coming home to their dogs.

And I promise you...

Oh, it's just... If that doesn't get you
crying, deaf babies being given hearing

aids.

Or if that one doesn't go... I don't
know if you know what Enchroma glasses

but basically, there's... Colourblind
people can't see colour, hence the name.

And so they're given these glasses,
which means they can see in colour for

first time. It'll be a Friday night, all
of my friends are out doing cocaine,

and I'm alone in bed being like, he
didn't know the colour of his daughter's

eyes.

That's why I don't like being left wing
a lot of the time, man. In all honesty.

Because we're the emotional ones. I just
fucking hate my teammates.

A lot of the time I do wish I was right
wing. I mean, not that fucking right

wing.

You know, just the normal right wing.

Looks so easy.

Because the right wing don't really care
how right wing you are. They're just

happy you joined in.

Do you love Trump?

Yeah, I love Trump.

Do you hate abortion?

Yeah, I hate abortion.

Do you hate the gays?

Oh, not really.

You'll learn. That's it.

You're still part of the team. Here's
your hat. Who gives a shit?

If you are not as left -wing as the left
-wing person you were talking to, you

are the enemy, man.

They say they're being like, are you
anti -Trump? Yeah, I'm anti -Trump. Are

pro -choice? Yeah, I'm pro -choice. Are
you pro -LGBTQ? Yes, I'm pro -LGBTQ. Are

you anti -racist? Yes, I'm anti -racist.
Are you a vegan?

No? Then why don't you go join the rest
of the fucking Nazis?

Thank you.

It's exhausting.

Being left wing has just turned into a
competition of who is the most woke. And

I'm bored of the game, man.

It's like, being left wing, it's kind of
like being in the fucking trenches,

right? And the enemy, they outnumber
you. There's more of them. They're

organised. And they're winning. And
you're just sat there in the trenches

oh my god, oh my god, they outnumber our
god. How the hell are we going to beat

these cunts?

Why did you say cunts?

What?

It's just interesting that you chose to
say cunts.

I don't think that's important right
now!

When will it be important? When this is
done!

Let's do it when this is done!

It's real fucking Nazi.

Like.

I'll tell you what, Austin, you've not
disappointed.

You've absolutely, by now, and... Just,
I'll fucking

pause the stand -up for a bit, right? To
the right -wing people that I know in

this room, I know that cunt doesn't
fucking represent you. I know he

right? I know he doesn't, right?

And also, if you're right -wing, I'm
genuinely glad you're here. I'm fucking

sick of this divide getting bigger and
bigger. Thank you for coming to see a

comedian that you primarily disagree
with. I respect it greatly.

I really do. Thank you.

And to the lefties, let's get them! No,
no, no.

But I get it, man. Look, most of my
friends, not all of them, but most of my

friends are fucking left wing. And
they're the ones that annoy me more.

And I'm on their team. I agree with them
on most of the fucking things. But just

the smarkness of every single moment of
like, you could be better. Oh, come on.

A couple of months ago my television
broke. I got quite upset about that

I like my TV. It's what I watch TV on.

And I was complaining to one of my
friends. I was just having a little bit

moan. I was like, oh man, my TV broke.

I'm going away so I can't buy a new one.
It's going to cost money. I can't

fucking afford it right now.

It's a bit annoying.

My friend was like, wow, Daniel.

Your TV's broken.

It's got you this upset.

Wow, that's such a first world problem.

This is your first world problem. You
know there are kids in Syria who don't

even have TVs.

They don't even have running water and
you're complaining about your TV being

broken. It's not that bad when you think
about it. And the grand scheme of

things, when you put things into
perspective, things could be a lot

couldn't they?

Fuck off.

Just because bad things happen at other
places doesn't mean I don't get to have

a concept of badness, man.

Right? You don't get to put, that's not
how perspective works.

Right? Otherwise I could just walk
around kicking people in the balls and

holding up a picture of 9 -11 being
like, eh? Eh?

Could be worse.

Could be worse.

Could be much worse.

Huh?

Perspective! Because that's the thing.
You only put my favourite emotions into

perspective. Right? You only put sadness
and anger.

You never put happiness into
perspective, do you?

Because you understand that would be a
shitty thing to do.

Let's say you're a good person. You're a
better person than I. You're out

volunteering in one of these war -torn
places.

You're building schools.

You're trying to be the change you want
to see in the world. One of the kids

runs up to you and they're like,
Sebastian, Sebastian!

Because your name's Sebastian.

UNICEF dropped by.

UNICEF dropped by. They dropped off food
and they dropped off water and they

dropped off medicine. But you know what
else they dropped off? Did you know what

else they dropped off, Sebastian? They
dropped off a football. My very own

football. We used to have to play with a
bag made of other bags, but now I get

to play with this football and I can't
wait. I'm going to play with my friends

every single day and I'm going to become
better than Messi and Ronaldo combined.

I'm so happy now that I've got this
football.

Put his happiness into perspective.

Be like, well there.

Small Syrian child with a name I'm not
willing to improvise.

That is a very nice football.

But there are kids in Edinburgh who have
Xboxes.

So in the grand scheme of things, you're
not actually that happy,

are you?

That is such third world happiness right
there.

And it's coming across a little bit
smug.

A little bit smug.

I've got a dad.

Then again, sometimes...

Sometimes my friends in the left, they
come up with campaigns that are so easy

to support.

Free the nipple. In.

I don't need to hear any more. I'm
straight in. Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah.

That one.

This brings me over to an interesting
point. Now, women, I'm going to ask you

question here. If you do not feel
comfortable answering this question,

because of the situation we're in, do
not.

answer. I respect your right to privacy,
but I promise you, you're not the

punchline of the joke if you answer
truthfully and also will help the

So, to the women in the room, give me a
cheer on the count of three if at any

point in your life you've ever sent a
nude to a partner or an ex -partner.

two, three.

Amazing. Lovely.

Thank you very much for cheering, but
also thank you very much for doing it.

I don't know if you've ever been thanked
before, but fucking yes.

It's such a nice thing to do. What a
kind thing.

What a kind thing to do for just another
person. It's just good on you.

I don't know when you do it.

I don't know what mindset you have to
get yourself into to send, in my head,

what you do.

It's when you get out of the bath or the
shower and you've got your towel

wrapped around your teeth and you've got
your hair up in that stupid fucking

thing.

You run past the mirror and it's a bit
steamy, but not too steamy. And you're

just like... Oh,

my God.

I look dead sexy.

I look so natural.

Do you know who'd appreciate a picture
of this? My loving partner, who I love

very much.

Click, send.

Saying, that's a beautiful thing.
There's nothing wrong with it.

Now, to all the women who didn't hear
that question, don't worry. I'm sure

you're good partners in other ways.

You sound fun.

I know your type exactly.

Here's your birthday blowjob. Oh, yay.

Oh, fucking hope it's a toothy one.

Oh, sure enough.

Sure enough, there it is.

Why not?

Why not get your molars involved in the
most sensitive part of my body?

Happy birthday to me.

Tap you on the head when I come. I'll
tap you on the head when I stop

bleeding. How about that?

It's a horrible joke.

But it gets a laugh, so I'll keep doing
it.

Now, in the interest of fairness, men in
the room.

I would like a cheer on the count of
three if you have ever sent a dick pic.

Now, I understand if you don't want to
be honest, right? But the ladies were

honest, that's why I asked them first,
and now you have to be welcome to

equality.

Men in the room.

My brothers, give me a cheer on the
count of three if you've ever sent a

pic. One, two, three.

Fuck yeah.

That was so manly. The caveman in my
brain was like, where's the fuck,

the... No, no, no, no.

To the men who cheered there, my
brothers, I will get back to you in a

To the men who didn't cheer, you fucking
liars.

You absolute, full of shit, fucking
liars.

I know exactly what that silence is,
right? You have sent dick pics, but not

the person you're currently sat beside.

That is the silence of shit.

Get rid of that shame, boys. There's
nothing wrong with sending dick pics,

There's nothing wrong with sending dick
pics. It's a perfectly normal, natural

thing to do. You like a girl, you send
her a picture of your dick. Bish, bash,

bosh. Job's done. Now she's seen your
dick.

Everyone's a winner. There's nothing
wrong with sending a picture of your

As long as the following criteria is
met.

The person that you send a picture of
your dick to said the word, send me

a picture.

Off you're dead.

Now, to the men in the room right now
who are sat there being like, Jesus

Christ, Floss.

What an easy point to make.

What a pandering point to just get all
of the women on your side, Floss. Oh my

God. Oh my God, Floss. Two things. One,
duh.

The second of all, I'm glad you think
I'm pandering because you thinking that

I'm pandering there allows me to realize
that you don't send unsolicited dick

pics because it's an alien concept to
you, right? So you're just like, if I

don't do it, no one else do it. Boys, it
happens a lot.

It happens much more than you'd expect.
And I know this because I've got female

friends and every time I go to use their
phone, I can't lift them up because

there's so many dick pics weighing this
fucking thing down.

It happens so much.

And the thing is, like, normally when
people do shitty things, even though I

know the shitty thing's evil, I
understand the logic behind doing it.

Like, I know thieving is wrong, but I
can understand being in a position where

you feel that you have to deal to
survive.

I understand that murder is wrong, but
I've also met people who say things like

it's pronounced Barthelona. Like, I
understand the concept of murder in

But when it comes to sending unsolicited
dick pics, I don't get it, man.

I don't understand that logic of, she'll
fucking love this.

She didn't ask for it. You're like,
surprise.

To me, sending an unsolicited dick pic
is the equivalent of walking up to a

stranger's house and just sticking your
dick through their letterbox.

What? What?

But they might suck it.

But they might suck it.

How am I meant to know if they'll suck
it unless I give them the option to suck

it? If there was another way, I'd do it!

Fourth wall breaking here, just going to
be honest with you. I've done that joke

quite a few times. And it goes down very
well in the UK, right? But it's never

really fully translated here in the
States. And it's always bothered me,

I've always been very good at being able
to bring jokes across the pond and

translate them well. So I'm like, why
does this not work as well in America?

And then I realised, you don't have
letterboxes.

In the UK, there's just a hole in your
door, and the postman sticks a post

through it, and then the post is in your
house.

Which, you don't have that. So when I'm
doing that joke, in your head, I'm just

at the end of your driveway.

You've got...

Is he still out there?

What is he doing?

Well, the flak's up.

I understand sometimes when men send
unsolicited dick pics, they do so

they're assholes and it's abuse of power
and it's a sort of form of harassment.

I'm not going to attempt to justify that
in any way, shape or form. I would like

to believe though, I think a lot of the
time, well maybe not a lot, but I think

some of the time men send unsolicited
dick pics is because they're idiots.

Like it's not a malicious thing. It's a
naivety thing.

It's men being egocentric. They're
taking the logic that applies to

and forcing it on the rest of the world
because we think we're the center of the

universe. What a man will be thinking
when he sends an unsolicited dick pic is

like, man, see if a woman sent me an
unsolicited picture of her vagina.

That would be the best day of my life.

And it would be.

Like, lads, if we all just left it there
and turned our phones back on and just

some lovely woman had just sent you a
picture of our vagina, you'd be like,

fucking yes.

Fucking subscribe to whatever this is.

And the reason we are like that is
because we've never been threatened with

vaginas. Right? Unless your mum did that
thing, she was like, you shut the fuck

up or you're going back up there. That
might just be my mum.

At this point, you'll get men being
like, oh, what? So it's okay for women

send unsolicited nudes, but it's not
okay for a man to do it. Is that what

you're saying, Daniel?

Yes. Yes.

And it's not a double standard. Don't
think it's a double standard. Because

though the pictures are very similar,
the tone is different. And the tone is

crucial. Tone is always important in
these things. The best way I can

the difference in tone is it's the
difference between you sending someone a

picture of your house.

or somebody else sending you a picture
of your house.

Those are very similar photos, but they
mean incredibly different things.

It goes from being, this is where I
live, to this is where you live!

You understand how one of those became a
thread, right?

And that's it. I would love to live in a
world where you just start chatting

with a girl. You get on very well.

It's just you meet her in a bar. You
meet her out and about doing whatever

do. You give her your number. You're
like balls in your court.

She goes away. She's like, I will text
him. I will text him. He was nice.

Better let him know I'm interested
though.

I've turned the flash on.

This is just her sliding snapchat
filters.

Look when it opens up a rainbow fuzz
house.

I've sent dick pics. Of course I have.
Of course I have.

Of course I have.

Of course I have.

Of course I have.

Of course, of course I have. Of course I
have.

What are you talking, of course I have.

My phone has a camera on it.

And I have a dick.

What conclusion did you think I was
going to arrive at?

But again, always solicited, always to
someone who's like, like,

they don't do that aggressively.

And to my brothers out there that are
sending solicited dick pics, do not let

the rest of these monsters ruin the good
thing going on, right? Fucking fight

the good fight. If you're still a bit
ashamed of your dick pics, I get it.

seen my own dick pics. They're, you
know, there.

But just compared to the nudes at the
women's end, always.

It's just better.

Women, I don't know if every single one
of you fuckers went to art school, but

the effort.

In these little, there's lingerie,
there's angles, there's lighting,

fucking drape somewhere.

Even though it's a photo, somehow music
is playing in the background.

Whereas men send dick pics like they're
trying to sell a used car.

It's like, this is what I say.

Now you say what I say.

Do you like what I see?

I like when you see what I see.

Oh, you want another angle? Don't worry,
baby, I got two of them.

This one like a mugshot, like he's been
a bad penis.

Now, to the people that don't send
nudes, I know I gave you a hard time

I was joking. If you're not comfortable
sending nudes, don't send nudes. Your

body, your choice. I absolutely respect
that. My problem with you fucking

prudes, though, is just not all of you,
but it's your people

that whenever nudes get leaked, whether
it be celebrity or normal, everyday

people, there's always these fucking
leaks. Your people are the first ones to

like, oh, your nudes leaked today.
That's a shame.

What a pity. What a pity that is. If
only there would be some way to prevent

that from happening.

Oh, like, oh, I don't know, never taking
them in the first place?

Ah.

Oh.

I'm such a genius. I think I'm the
smartest person that ever lived.

These people aren't idiots for having
their nudes leaked. It's not like they

just left them on a bus and were like,
no!

That's where my dick picks. Why?

Like, they're being robbed.

They're having their things hacked or
they're being blackmailed. They're

the victim, man. Like, it's not happened
to me yet, and it will.

There's enough of my dick pics out there
in the world.

Don't cheer like you've seen them.
That's terrifying.

We know.

One of my friends was... There's a video
of my friend Massabing that was leaked

online. Now, he's not an idiot for this.
Yeah, he's a bit funny. I agree with

you.

But what happened was he was talking to
this girl for three months. Now, it

wasn't a girl. He was being catfished.
But he's not a fucking idiot, man. Like,

he knew about catfishing. So when he was
talking to her over the course of two

or three months, they Skyped.

They FaceTimed each other.

Technology's got to the point where they
were able to put a face over the face,

or make it look like it was a girl
they're talking to, a bit fucking blind.

that's who he thought he was talking to
for the entire time. So he trusted her

over the course of two months.

After about two and a half months, she
was like, hey, we should do a mutual

masturbation session. And he was like,
well, I'm not an idiot. You go first.

they managed to get one of the very,
very, many, many videos of women

masturbating on webcam online. They
superimposed it into the thing. That's

he thought he was doing it with.

Trusted her, got his dick out, started
masturbating, filmed the entire thing.

Afterwards, they were like, we know who
you are.

We know you've got a bit of money.
Unless you give us this amount of money,

we're going to release this video and
ruin your career.

200 ,000.

200 ,000 times I've watched that video.

Of course I have.

He's one of my best friends. I send him
photos of it every day, being like,

that's your face when you cum. Ha ha.

It's another reason why I know I get
called a sociopath, because I'll happily

laugh at people in miserable situations.

But you've got to understand, I'm not
laughing at them being miserable. The

reason I make jokes with my friends when
they're going through hard times is

because...

I'm really sad about what happened, my
friend. It was a horrible thing to go

through, but I can't stop it from
happening because it's happened. The

thing I can do is help him deal with it.
And I've found in my life laughing at

things that have happened to you makes
it easier to deal with. Just being able

to laugh at something that's affected
you means it has less power over you for

period of time.

And that's why I like making jokes about
these things. Now, at the end of the

day, I don't really give a shit if you
think I'm a sociopath, as long as you

understand what you're accusing me of
being. The difference between a

and a sociopath is hotly debated amongst
a lot of psychiatrists and

psychologists, and they're going to be
very annoyed by me butchering them. all

the fucking science behind it. But
basically, psychopaths are born. You're

born inherently shit. There's a chemical
imbalance in the brain and you're like,

I like to kick dogs.

It's just, that's who you are.

Whereas sociopaths are made. Something
happens to you during your childhood

stunts your growth, stops your brain,
developing empathy at the normal rate of

other people. So if you're accusing me
of being a sociopath, you're saying

something bad happened to me during my
childhood to make me that way. We should

be able to work out what that moment is.
And if it doesn't exist, logically I

cannot be a sociopath. So let's look at
the known factors that turn someone into

one.

Let's go for bad parenting. I'm going to
cancel that one out straight away. If

you've met my mum and dad, they're the
kindest people alive. It makes no sense

how... why I turned out.

My mum is bewildered by the contempt I
have for this planet. At least once a

month I'll phone her up and I'll rant
about shit that doesn't matter and I'll

just slam down the phone and she'll be
like, well at least he called.

What else turns people into sociopaths?
Childhood trauma. It's a big one.

Something traumatic happens to you as a
child. Now, there is one of those for

me. When I was eight years old, my
sister Josie passed away. For any of

if you've seen the special Dark, you
understand that I'm more than capable of

making several excellent points, talking
about it very openly, while also making

excellent jokes about it at the same
time.

But Josie's death did not give me a
disregard for human life. If anything,

taught me I needed to value it more. So
we can nip that one in the bud. What

else turns someone into a sociopath?
Bullying.

I was an excellent bully.

I made sick dollar every day.

No, I was bullied a little bit. No more
than others. Not enough to be like...

What else?

Child abuse.

Molestation. That's a big one.

I've never been molested.

Well, here's a story.

When I was 19 years old, my mum gets a
phone call from the police. And they go,

Mr. Sloss, we'd like to speak to your
eldest son.

And that's me. So she put me on the
phone.

And they went, Daniel Sloss?

And I went, thee?

And they went, what?

Nothing.

Okay, Mr. Sloss, we'd like to interview
you.

I've already got a job.

Sorry.

I love trying to make police officers
laugh because I'm white and I'm allowed

do that.

No,

no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no. You're
not angry at the joke. You're angry at

the truth within the joke, right?

I'm not woke for making the observation.
You're not woke for getting upset.

Let's all move on together.

I was like, what's the interview about?

They're like, we can't tell you over the
phone. Do we have your permission to

come around to your house and interview
you then?

And I said, no.

They're like, why not? I'm like, because
it could be a trap.

A trap for what? What have you done?
Nothing.

Then it's not a trap, is it?

Fuck, good point.

You'll make detective one day.

Next day, two police officers come to my
house, a man and a woman. Their genders

are unimportant, but it's going to help
your visualisation with the story.

My parents are not allowed to be in the
room with me while I'm being

interviewed. It's just me and the
police.

And I'm like, am I in trouble? They're
like, you're not in trouble. You were

just either the witness or the victim of
a crime a couple of years ago.

And I was like, oh shit, okay.

What crime?

They're like, we can't tell you.

Because we don't know whether you're a
victim or just a witness, we cannot risk

leading the witness and then losing your
statement. So we just have to ask you a

bunch of vague questions and hope you
arrive at your own conclusions, and then

you can tell us the story.

And I was like, cool, fun game.

Okay, Mr. Floss, tell us about your
acting career.

Ah, easy, doesn't exist.

But you have done acting before?

No, not really.

Yes, you have.

Well, I mean, I have.

Yes, you have.

I'm not the kid from Home Alone, man. I
get that all the time, but it's not

like, Mr. Claus, you did musical theatre
when you were a teenager.

Oh, fucking, oh, that, yeah. I don't
consider that acting, though. I'm not

L .A.

I'm not like, no, I'm a lovely little
actor. I sing a song every night.

I'm like, I did musical theatre between
the ages of 11 and 17. Not because I

enjoy it. I actively fucking hate it.
But my mum works from home and during

summer holidays I would be home from
school. And she didn't enjoy that very

because I'm very annoying.

So she did what any healthy parent does
at that point in time and then made me

someone else's problem.

She just signed me up to a can and went,
love you, bye, fuck off and that.

So I spent two weeks every year minimum
at musical theatre camp.

And they were like, and how was that for
you? I was like, it was very traumatic.

They were like, aha!

Why? Because I can't sing.

I'm not being modest. I can't sing. My
voice doesn't really have much range,

I'm also partially tone deaf. I can't
really tell the difference in the pitch

my own voice. That's why whenever I do
stand -up, I've only got two voices.

It's either this monotony or the very
offensive impression I do of women.

It's either, hello, I'm Daniel Sloss, or
hello, I'm a lady. That's all my voice

does.

But I've always been confident and I've
always had stage presence. So they

ignored the fact that I couldn't sing
and they gave me the leads in all the

musicals. And then when it came to any
solo songs I did, they made me rap them.

Sound bad. It was worse.

And it's stuff like Jesus Christ
Superstar where I played Jesus and I was

yo, my name is Jesus Christ and I'm here
to say it was fucking horrendous.

They're like, who did you go to theatre
with? I'm like, thousands of children.

They're like, name names!

I'm like, okay.

Start lifting off people I remember. I
obviously don't arrive with the name

want me to arrive at, so they feed me
it. They're like, do you remember this

person? I was like, no.

They go, yes, you do.

No, I don't. Yes, you do. Look, I know
I've smoked a lot of marijuana since

then, but my memory isn't actually that
bad. You've smoked a lot of what? Oh,

what?

Huh?

That's loud isn't it? My mum's outside
the door. He also sniffs deodorant cans!

He's a monster!

Lock him up!

Now the reason I didn't remember the
name of the person, well it wasn't

I didn't remember the person, but it's
because he had a nickname all the way

through theatre and they were using his
full name.

You never really realise the power of
nicknames until your friend who has a

nickname gets a new partner and their
new partner starts calling them by their

actual name.

It will fuck you up for weeks at a time.

You'll be sat there and they'll be like,
have you seen Jason?

I don't think I've ever met a Jason in
my life.

Your best friend Jason. I think I'd know
if my best... Oh, dick biscuit. Yes, of

course. Sorry.

I go, I remember him. Tell him about
him. All right, he was nice.

I remember my first day of theatre, I
didn't know anyone, so I cried. That was

my self -defense mechanism.

He took me under his wing. He introduced
me to people he knew. He was also a

very good singer, because we had to do
duets sometimes, and he'd sing really

beautifully, and then I'd rap.

Then they asked a question that changed
the tone of the whole afternoon.

How old did he tell you he was?

I beg your pardon?

C 'est quoi?

Fucking what, cunt?

What do you mean, how old did he tell
you? What kind of question is that? It

an 11 to 17 year old there, so he must
have been 16 or 17. What do you mean?

She doesn't answer.

She goes into her briefcase, she brings
out a stack of paper this thick. This

stack of paper contains every single
conversation I have ever had with this

person over MSN Messenger over the
course of four years.

She starts quoting certain segments out
to me and it becomes very apparent, very

quickly, that a 13 -year -old Daniel
Sloss was being groomed and had no

idea.

And when I say painfully obvious, I mean
like, turns out I'm as bad with

paedophiles as I am with women. Like I
just...

I just don't pick up any of the signals.
I'm like, me?

Stop it. No, come on. No.

She said, tell me about the yellow
trousers.

And I was like, oh, fuck, I remember the
yellow trousers.

I don't know if you've ever had a memory
just come out of nowhere. I fucking

hate you. I was like, oh, my God, the
yellow trousers. She's like, why are you

reacting like that?

And I was like, because you've just put
them in a very different context.

In one of the musicals, I needed to wear
full yellow. I can't remember why. It

was just the character.

wore full yellow and I had a yellow
shirt and I had yellow shoes but I

own yellow trousers because who fucking
owns those?

Turns out this guy did and he lent me a
pair of yellow trousers for the duration

of the musical. She goes, good.

That brings us to June 3rd, 2004.

He said, hey Dan, do the yellow trousers
fit?

You said, yeah, thanks man.

He said, why don't you turn your webcam
on and show me you're trying them on?

And I was like,

What did I say?

Like, did I do it?

Like, I don't know, it's just a video of
me on your iPad being like, see, they

fit! Like, whoa!

What is this?

She was like, you said, nah man, don't
worry about it, you'll see them

And I was like, oh boy, fucking oh boy.

Open with that!

She goes, can we proceed? And I'm like,
absolutely, we can proceed if it helps

the investigation.

What's your next question?

Mr. Sloss, do you remember what you said
July 17th, 2004?

Yes.

Really? No!

He said, hey Dan, do you masturbate?

You said, yes, sometimes.

He said, what do you masturbate to?

You said your mum lol and logged off.

I cannot commend the professionalism of
this woman enough.

She didn't crack a fucking inch.

She said it with such a straight face
that she must have practiced.

She must have it. Her and her partner
must have just been in the car being

okay, here we go, go on.

Okay, come on.

You said you're my... Oh, fuck.

I was close, I was close.

You said you... You made me laugh! You
did it that time!

Ah, fuck it, we'll leave him in there.

It took me five seconds to realise what
she said. And then I died. And I died on

the floor, crying with laughter, just
nudging the male officer, being like, I

fucking got him, didn't I? He's like,
get off my fucking leg.

She's like, can we continue? And I was
like, yes, please.

This is the best day of my life.

Mr. Sloss, do you remember what happened
the weekend, August 20th, 2004?

Nah, but I bet it was funny.

Friday night, he said, hey Dan, would
you like to go to the cinema tomorrow?

You said, yeah, sure, who with?

He said, just you and me.

You said, cool, see you then.

He said, don't tell your parents it's
just you and me.

You said, why would I?

You forget how stupid and naive you are
when you're young.

I was 19 when I was being interviewed. I
was 30 when these conversations took

place. There's only a six -year
difference. But I remember thinking,

fucking hell, I can't remember being
that stupid and trusting.

I can't remember going to the cinema.

What does that mean?

I'm asking her. I'm like, I don't
remember going to the cinema with this

Does that mean I have a repressed
memory? Do I have repressed memories?

And she was like, what? No, no, no,
sorry. Monday morning, the first thing

said was, where were you?

I'd forgotten to go.

This poor paedophile.

He's always so close.

He's so close. And I just slip away
every time.

Every time.

Like, I know he's evil, but he must be
so frustrated.

It must be so annoying for him. Just
standing in the cinema, melting ice

He's like Wile E. Coyote, and I'm like
the roadrunner, just me, me, and I just

disappear.

He's just there molesting the cloudy
outline of where I was, like, ah, this

isn't the same.

I'm making these jokes, I'm laughing,
she's listening to the jokes, she's not

laughing.

She's like, do you find this funny? And
I was like, yes.

Because you haven't told me what's going
on. All you've done for the past hour

is gone, hey, do you want to know how
funny you were when you were 13 years

Don't get me wrong, I have arrived at a
conclusion that I think you suggested I

was going to arrive at. But if you want
me to explain why in just this

particular moment I'm laughing, because
comedy equals tragedy plus time, and

this was clearly very nearly a massive
tragedy, and a lot of time has passed

since then.

And it's just, in all honesty, it just
tickles me to find out that when I was

years old that I accidentally cock
-teased a pedo.

And when I said cock -teased the pedo,
she cracked. She went, oh, yeah.

Her partner was like, shh, in the car,
in the car. Yes, write it down. Of

course, write it down. That's
hysterical.

I was like, what did you mean? What did
you mean when you said how old did he

tell me he was? What does that question
mean?

She goes, well, the time he was at
theatre with you, he wasn't 17 years

was 21.

he just looked incredibly young he'd
been taking advantage of this for a

years we also know that he was a
volunteer at a local school and i was

like that's not funny like now i get why
you weren't laughing at my excellent

jokes earlier on like If you'd opened
with that, I just wouldn't have taken it

more seriously. Like, I know I'm okay,
but is everyone else okay?

She's like, everyone else is fine at the
moment. The reason for the

investigation is he basically left
himself logged on one of the school

computers. Somebody went on after him,
found his browsing history where he was

in a lot of forum boards pretending to
be an underage boy.

We then confiscated his laptop and we
found conversations like that on that.

we're following the traces of all of
those. Now, I know there's a lot of

in this room, so let me just spoil the
ending. But I feel like he never managed

to do anything to anyone. He is still in
prison and he will be for a very long

time. So, just, you know.

Unclench your buttocks, which was his
catchphrase.

Grow up, which was not his catchphrase.

The interview goes on for about three
hours altogether. I've got to convince

them I'm not lying or hiding anything.

At the end of it, they thank me for my
patience and I thank them for the

routine.

And they're like, you can't ever talk
about this on stage.

And I was like, oh yeah, okay.

Are you telling me to keep a secret?

Seems a bit hypocritical.

Now people have asked if there's
anything traumatic about that story. And

honesty, the answer is no. Just because
I was one of the fortunate ones. Nothing

happened in that situation.

It was a bit weird and jarring to find
out. I'm not going to lie. I spent, I

think, a couple of weeks just replaying
conversation I'd have with them over and

over in my head. Being like, oh, that
didn't mean what I thought it meant.

But it was weird. The worst thing about
it was, because I was 19 years old, I

was legally considered an adult by
British police.

So they didn't have to tell my parents
anything. They just fucked off.

And then my mum and dad came into the
room and were like, who is that about?

And I had to explain to my mum and dad
everything I'd learned at that moment.

And my mum sent me to that theatre
group. Now, although we know that it's

her fault by any stretch of the
imagination, she's an emotional woman.

devastated. She blamed herself.

She was like, oh my God, my baby, I
can't believe I put you in so much

No wonder you're a drug addict. It's not
my fault.

Meanwhile, my dad was crying with
laughter.

My dad should be like, oh, cocktease, a
pedo. That's a belter. That's an

absolute... That's an absolute belter.
Did she laugh at that? Yeah, she must

have done. Of course she did.

She'd have to be dead not to.

But that man there to me is a true
sociopath.

The paedophile, not my father.

I think he's absolutely a sociopath. He
exhibits many of the personality traits

of a sociopath.

He's got egocentrism.

narcissism, manipulation, lack of
empathy, lack of remorse, bad planning.

I also believe you can be a sociopath in
other senses of the word. As I

explained before, in order to become a
sociopath, something has to happen to

during your childhood to make you that
way.

You have to take into consideration that
over 70 % of child molesters were also

molested themselves when they were
children. So at what point do they stop

victims and start being perpetrators?
It's obviously when they act on those

impulses. But at what point do you stop
treatment and do you start punishment?

It's a very difficult, very
uncomfortable, very brutal conversation

I'm not going to be able to do justice
in the next five minutes.

I just like ending shows on fucked up
notes.

But the question is, am I a sociopath? I
don't think so.

But then again, I wouldn't.

Sociopaths tend to not know they're
sociopaths.

They also tend to hide in plain sight.

I normally leave it up to the audience
amongst themselves, talk after the show,

go grab a drink, see if you think I'm a
sociopath. You've got two choices. Yes,

I am. No, I'm not.

Either yes, I am a sociopath, or no, I'm
not.

Either yes, I am a sociopath, or no, I'm
something else entirely.

Either yes, I am a sociopath and the
story I told you there wasn't entirely

true.

Maybe something did happen to me when I
was younger.

Maybe I hate the lack of power and I
hate the lack of control I had in that

moment that subconsciously I became
obsessed with power, I became obsessed

control. I turned down university
because I couldn't stand the idea of

telling me how to live my life and
making my decisions for me. So I got

job where I was in charge, where I was
in control, where I...

I had a voice. And as time got on, I
loved the attention. I loved the

loved the power it afforded me. And I
got addicted to it. And I needed that

attention more. I needed that audience
to come back and give me that attention

so desperately craved. But the thing
was, I needed them to relate to me

emotionally. That would get them back.
That would be the key to my success.

But I don't have emotions.

So maybe I learned how to fake them.

Maybe I learned how to lie.

Maybe I became a master manipulator.

Maybe I made up a dead disabled sister
who never existed just to gain sympathy.

Maybe I spent two years of my life
breaking up couples because I couldn't

the idea of them experiencing a level of
joy I myself am incapable of

experiencing.

Maybe I did that year in, year out, year
in, year out, year in, year out,

because I loved the attention, I loved
the control, but most importantly, I

loved the fucking money. And despite
what you say, money does equal power, so

worked and I saved and I worked and I
saved and I worked and I saved, and in

years' time, when I finally snap and I
do what needs to be done to cleanse this

planet and purify it...

And I go down in a hail of fucking
gunfire with a smile on my face and they

my body straight to the morgue, straight
to the autopsy. They rip off my shirt,

they rip off my trousers. I'm riddled
with bullets and a big rictus grin

my face and unblinking happy eyes. But
the one thing that stands out above all

else is the fresh tattoo across my
chest. Not of a manifesto, not of a

an address.

An address down by the docks in
Edinburgh.

They send in an entire team, the SWAT
and police there, they're all standing

outside surrounding the helicopters
going above ahead.

They lift up the doors, they throw
flashbangs, they throw in smokes, they

into every corner and when the dust
finally settles and the last of the

clears and there's nothing left, there's
no movement, there's just... Fridges.

Fridges. Isles of fridges.

We've gone to the fucking wrong
warehouse. This is a fridge warehouse.

They get the order, this is the address,
they walk in, look in every room, every

corner, basement, attic, nothing there.

Then one by one, they open up the
freezers and freezers, and it's just the

of anyone that offered me orange juice
with pulp in it.

So it's either that, or, or, or, I'm
just a cunt.

And I know what I've been called more.

Austin, you've been absolutely
incredible. Thank you so much. I've been

Swartz. Good night.

One thing I won't do is let you tell me
that I can't be great.

Can't be great.

One thing I won't do is let you tell me
this ain't my thing.

This ain't my thing.