“What the f— are you doing?”
saw theStar Warsactor finally confronting the late-night personality.
“This thing you’ve been doing that’s either sexual or violent…
This strange, strange bit that for some reason you’ve pulled me into.
What is it?”
“When you first started doing it, it was easy for me to shrug it off.”
Oliver kept interjecting sexually charged quips, like, “Especially with those shoulders, I bet.”
“Stop talking!”
“Do you realize, over this past year, what you’ve asked me to do to you?
‘Collapse on your chest.’
‘Tie your fingers in a square knot.’
‘Step on your throat.’
‘Shatter your knees.’
‘Pull your heart out through your ear.’
What’s wrong with you?
You realize we’re strangers, right?
I don’t know you.
Finally, he conceded, “Consider this bit over.
It’s done.”
“Explore the f—ing space, you hollow-boned Mr. Bean cosplayer,” Driver demanded.
“Look around you, you under-baked gingerbread boy.”
“Oh God, that feels good,” Oliver said.
