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“Jordan, now that the Oscars are over, some people thought it would be nice to record more of the Conan and Jordan Show.” Conan turned to the camera. “Just to be clear, I am not one of those people.”
They were recording a segment that would be put at the end of an episode of Conan O’Brien Needs A Friend.
Jordan folded his arms, leaning back on the chair. “I’m not opposed to the idea.”
“Most of us are.” Conan said without missing a beat, turning to the side as if nothing had happened. “Bley, please explain to us why you told me we should start the show again.”
In the corner, Aaron Bleyaert cleared his throat. “So, I’ve been on Reddit for a while, and there were a lot of posts and comments that wanted…you two to be together again.” He gestured. “ You know, people like the dynamic between you and Jordan.”
“Wait, wait, wait…you mean I have to do this, I have to tolerate this guy over here because of some REDDITORS?” Conan picked up his dramatic accent, yelling right into the mic. “That’s what you youngsters call yourselves, right, Sona?”
Sona shook her head at the other side of the table, exasperated.
“What did I tell you about never reading the comments, Bley? People, say, negative, things.” Conan jabbed his finger on the table surface one word after another.
“Did you just call the show negative?” Sona leaned towards the microphone, side-eyeing Conan.
“Some things should just end abruptly. We did a couple of episodes. It ended. We should never do it again.”
“Conan, if I may say—”
“No, you may not.”
Jordan continued anyway. “A lot of people enjoy our dynamic - we bicker around. Of course, you insult me, I take it, and some may find it funny. You’re no longer in show business anymore. Perhaps now that you wouldn’t face a live audience, you forgot that the opinions of our audience matter.”
“Hey, hey, now you’re insulting me.”
“I was pointing out a fact.”
“No, you said ‘perhaps’. It was an ASSUMPTION. Oh, I’m Jordan Schlansky, I know everything. It’s a fact ninininini…” Conan brattily whined.
Jordan silently observed him with his arms still folded at his chest. When Conan’s blabbering went on and on, he tried to interrupt, “Conan…”
“...and I’m always RIGHT.” Conan shouted the last word before he stopped to take a breath. “What?” He said grumpily.
“I was just saying, give the people what they want.”
Conan went quiet for an uncomfortably long while of time.
“I could die. I could die doing this. My heart cannot endure your nonsense of Caesar and anuses for an hour. It, it would explode.” He said with a completely straight face.
“Really? Come on, Conan.” Sona sighed, nudging his arm.
“Don’t touch me.”
Sona’s hand retreated. “Ok, but you’re just being dramatic like you always do.”
“Some people also want to see you and Jordan together.” Bley piped up.
“What, me?” asked Sona, surprised.
Bley nodded, which could hardly be seen due to how dark it was in the corner. “They say both of you have never been in the same room.”
“So it’s like the conspiracy theories where we could be like, secretly be one person?” Sona laughed. “But yeah, I would love to do something with...with Jordan.”
“I’m open to it.” said Jordan.
“And we’re in the same room now! We’re, we're not the same, guys.” She turned and grinned at the camera.
“Looks like you two are getting along well.” Conan made a face.
“Just agree with it, Conan.”
“Alright, enough nonsense.” Conan let out a breathly laugh.
“The Conan and Jordan Show will be back soon, on SiriusXM radio, and maybe some of it will be released on…YouTube? I don’t know. I don’t know anything. These guys here could be broadcasting my social security number everywhere.” Conan cracked a grin at his own joke. “Anyways, stay tuned.”
The ending credits began to play.