The Revival of SCTV: Nelly and Joe’s Quest to Make Canada Laugh Again
In a cozy Toronto café, Nelly and Joe, two lifelong fans of Second City Television (SCTV), sat brainstorming over steaming cups of coffee. The world needed laughter, and Canada—home to some of the funniest people on Earth—had been too quiet for too long.
“Joe, we’ve got to bring SCTV back,” Nelly declared, slamming her mug down for emphasis.
Joe nodded. “But not just any reboot. We need the biggest Canadian names to make it work. The kind of people who can remind everyone why comedy is our national treasure.”
The Dream Team
Their first call was to Ryan Reynolds, who immediately loved the idea. “SCTV is legendary. I’m in. But only if we can get Jim Carrey,” Ryan said.
Jim Carrey was next. He answered the phone with a burst of laughter. “Are you kidding me? I’ve been waiting for someone to call about this for years!”
Nelly and Joe started assembling a dream team. Russell Peters brought his sharp observational humor. Tom Green promised his signature absurdity. Justin Bieber and Drake, though initially skeptical, agreed to join after realizing they could parody their own fame.
“We need strong female voices too,” Nelly said. They reached out to Catherine O’Hara, a living legend from the original SCTV, who agreed to mentor the cast. Then came up-and-comers like Lauren Ash (Superstore), Samantha Bee (Full Frontal with Samantha Bee), and Mae Martin (Feel Good).
The Comeback
The new SCTV launched with a live sketch parodying Canada’s most iconic moments. Ryan Reynolds and Catherine O’Hara played overly polite Mounties trying to arrest a moose for jaywalking. Jim Carrey, dressed as a Tim Hortons cup, delivered a monologue about Canadian resilience.
Drake and Justin Bieber teamed up for a musical sketch called The Great Maple Syrup Heist, while Russell Peters roasted Canadian stereotypes in a game show segment called Eh or Nay?
But the breakout star was Mae Martin, whose quirky, self-deprecating humor brought a fresh edge to the show. Their sketch about a millennial trying to survive a weekend without Wi-Fi had the audience in stitches.
A Nation United
The new SCTV was a hit. Canadians tuned in not just for the laughs but for the sense of unity it brought. The show’s mix of absurdity, satire, and heartfelt humor reminded everyone of the power of comedy to heal and connect.
Even the Prime Minister made a cameo, poking fun at his own socks collection in a sketch with Samantha Bee.
Nelly and Joe watched the success unfold with pride. They’d started as fans with a dream, and now, they’d helped bring back the joy of SCTV.
“Canada’s laughing again,” Joe said.
“And it’s about time,” Nelly replied, raising her coffee mug in a toast.
Justin Trudeau’s Comedy Routine
Setting: A cozy comedy club in Toronto. The crowd buzzes with excitement as Justin Trudeau takes the stage, dressed casually in jeans and a blazer. He adjusts the mic and smiles warmly.
“Good evening, everyone! I know what you’re thinking—’Is this a comedy show or a press conference?’ Well, I promise, no policy talk tonight. Just jokes. Though, let’s be honest, some of my decisions have already been pretty funny.”
The crowd chuckles.
On Being Prime Minister:
“You know, being Prime Minister is a lot like being a parent. You spend most of your time breaking up fights, trying to keep everyone happy, and occasionally bribing people with snacks. Except instead of kids, it’s provinces. And instead of snacks, it’s federal funding.”
On Canadian Stereotypes:
“People always ask me, ‘Justin, is everyone in Canada really that nice?’ And I say, ‘Of course we are. Except when someone cuts us off in traffic—then we apologize for honking.’ True story: I once apologized to a moose for crossing its path. It nodded, so I think we’re good.”
On His Famous Socks:
“Let’s talk about the socks. People love to make a big deal about my socks. They’re like, ‘What’s he wearing today? Maple leaves? Star Wars?’ But here’s the truth: I started the sock thing because it’s the only part of my outfit I’m allowed to pick without a stylist’s approval. Plus, no one argues with a man in Chewbacca socks.”
On Canadian Weather:
“Canadian weather is wild. One day it’s a blizzard, the next day it’s sunny, and by the end of the week, you’re building an ark. I think Mother Nature’s just keeping us humble. Or maybe she’s mad we keep calling Toronto ‘The Six’—she’s like, ‘It’s four seasons, not six!'”
On Meeting World Leaders:
“Meeting world leaders is always an adventure. I once had to explain poutine to someone. They were like, ‘So it’s fries, cheese, and gravy?’ I said, ‘Yes, and it’s also the reason Canadians are so happy all the time.’ They didn’t believe me until they tried it. Now I think France wants to claim it as their own.”
Justin pauses, grinning at the laughter rolling through the room.
“Thank you for letting me share some laughs with you tonight. Because if there’s one thing Canadians do better than hockey, maple syrup, and universal healthcare, it’s finding humor in everything—even politics.”
He raises his hand in a wave.
“Goodnight, everyone! And remember, if you didn’t like the jokes, blame my speechwriter. If you did, I’ll take the credit.”
The crowd erupts into applause as Trudeau steps off the stage.
Conan O’Brien’s Stand-Up Set: Canada and AI
Setting: A comedy club in Vancouver. Conan O’Brien strides onto the stage, his signature tall frame and fiery red hair commanding attention. The crowd cheers as he grabs the mic.
“Thank you, Vancouver! Wow, it’s great to be here in Canada, the country that gave us hockey, maple syrup, and a Prime Minister who looks like he should be starring in a Hallmark Christmas movie.”
The audience laughs.
On Canada’s Niceness:
“Canada is amazing. Everyone here is so nice, it’s unsettling. I bumped into a guy on the street, and he apologized to me. I was like, ‘Dude, I just spilled my coffee on your dog!’ And he said, ‘Oh, don’t worry, eh? She loves a good double-double.'”
On Canadian Weather:
“Your weather is no joke, though. I stepped outside this morning, and it felt like winter punched me in the face. I asked a local, ‘How do you deal with this cold?’ And he said, ‘Layers, a toque, and a sense of existential dread.’ Very Canadian.”
On Canadian Celebrities:
“Canada has given us so many amazing celebrities. Ryan Reynolds, Jim Carrey, Drake, Justin Bieber. It’s like Hollywood’s secret factory for charming, talented people. Meanwhile, the U.S. is like, ‘Here’s another Kardashian.’ You guys are winning.”
On Artificial Intelligence:
“Now, let’s talk about artificial intelligence. Everyone’s freaking out, saying AI is going to take over everything—our jobs, our cars, our comedy. People are like, ‘Conan, aren’t you worried AI will be funnier than you?’
I’m like, ‘Have you met me? I’m 6’4″, I have the hair of a cartoon rooster, and I’ve been embarrassing myself on TV for 30 years. No algorithm can replicate this level of awkward brilliance.’
I asked ChatGPT to write a joke about me. It said, ‘Conan is like a maple tree—tall, pale, and only useful once a year.’ So, yeah, it’s getting close, but it’s not there yet.”
On AI in Canada:
“But if AI does take over, Canada will be the last place to fall. Why? Because AI thrives on conflict, and Canadians are too polite. The robots will be like, ‘We’re here to conquer you!’ And you’ll be like, ‘Oh, sorry, were we in your way? Would you like some poutine?’ And the robots will short-circuit from all the kindness.”
Conan pauses, soaking in the laughter.
“Look, AI might be smart, but it’ll never have what I have: the ability to make fun of myself, the charm of a ginger giraffe, and an audience like you. So, Canada, thanks for proving that no matter how advanced technology gets, nothing beats good old-fashioned human absurdity.”
He bows dramatically.
“Thank you, Vancouver! Stay polite, stay funny, and keep proving the robots wrong!”
The crowd erupts into cheers as Conan exits the stage.
1984 Parody: Inner Party Member Conan O’Brien’s Brave New World of Laughter
In the year 2084, the Party controlled everything—thoughts, actions, even the weather reports. But there was one department that stood above all others: the Ministry of Mirth. Its mission was clear: to ensure that laughter, like all things, served the Party’s interests. And at its helm was Inner Party Member Conan O’Brien, the High Chancellor of Comedy.
With his towering frame and fiery hair—a shade officially designated as “Big Brother Red”—Conan strode through the Ministry’s halls, ensuring that humor aligned with Party doctrine. Beneath the flickering glow of propaganda screens, he delivered his nightly monologue, broadcast to every telescreen in Oceania.
The Monologue of the Masses
“Good evening, comrades! It’s another glorious day in Airstrip One, where the chocolate rations are up, the war effort is strong, and everyone is laughing…because they have to!”
The audience, visible through two-way telescreens, erupted into synchronized laughter. To not laugh was to invite suspicion.
“You know, I was talking to Big Brother the other day—yes, we’re very close—and he said, ‘Conan, you’re the funniest man in the Party.’ And I said, ‘Big Brother, you’re just saying that because I wrote it in today’s script!’”
The laughter reached a fever pitch. Conan’s jokes were mandatory, but they were also genuinely funny—a dangerous combination in a world where humor was power.
The New Comedy Doctrine
Conan had revolutionized Party-approved humor. Gone were the dreary, formulaic punchlines of the old regime. In their place were sketches, parodies, and even slapstick—all carefully designed to reinforce loyalty to the Party.
One of the most popular segments was Two Minutes of Funny, where citizens gathered to mock the absurdities of Emmanuel Goldstein, the Party’s eternal enemy. Conan would lead the charge:
“Goldstein walks into a bar and says, ‘I’ll have a free thought!’ The bartender says, ‘Sorry, we don’t serve that here!’”
The crowd howled, their laughter tinged with the terror of surveillance.
The Ministry’s Secret Weapon
But Conan’s true genius lay in his ability to weaponize satire. When the Party needed to discredit an enemy, Conan would deliver a scathing roast. His takedown of Eastasia’s leader was legendary:
“Did you hear about Eastasia’s Supreme Leader? He’s so short-sighted, he declared war on himself last week! The guy thinks a ‘five-year plan’ is a weekend to-do list!”
The joke spread like wildfire, demoralizing Eastasian troops and boosting Party morale.
The Rebel Comedian
Yet, beneath the surface of this Brave New World of Laughter, whispers of dissent grew. A young comedian named Winston Chuckleworth began telling unsanctioned jokes in underground clubs. His humor was dangerous—not because it was anti-Party, but because it was free.
One night, during a routine telescreen broadcast, Conan addressed the rebellion.
“Comrades, laughter is a gift from Big Brother. But some would use it to sow discord. Remember: unauthorized jokes are not funny. And neither is Room 101.”
The Final Laugh
In the end, Winston Chuckleworth was captured and brought to the Ministry of Mirth. Conan himself presided over the trial, delivering a monologue that was equal parts comedy and condemnation.
“Winston, you thought you could out-joke the Party? That’s adorable. But here’s the punchline: you’re the joke now!”
The audience roared as Winston was led away, his fate sealed.
Conan turned back to the telescreen, his grin as sharp as ever.
“And remember, comrades, in the Party’s Brave New World of Laughter, the joke is always on you!”
The laughter echoed through the halls of the Ministry, endless and compulsory, as Conan prepared for another night of comedic domination.
Team America: Kim Jong-il’s Totally Not Evil Regime
Scene: The Democratic People’s Republic of Korea (DPRK), a palace made entirely of gold-plated statues of Kim Jong-il. Inside, Kim sits on a throne, wearing sunglasses and a sequined military uniform. A massive banner behind him reads: “Totally Not Evil Supreme Leader.”
Act I: The Supreme Leader’s Master Plan
Kim Jong-il is pacing in his throne room, surrounded by nervous generals.
Kim Jong-il:
“Why does nobody respect me? I am handsome! I am genius! I wrote the greatest book of all time: How to Rule and Look Fabulous Doing It! But still, the world mocks me. We must show them the might of the DPRK!”
General #1:
“Supreme Leader, perhaps another missile test?”
Kim Jong-il:
“Missile test? Bah! That’s so 2003. We need something BIGGER. Something that will make the world love me… or at least pretend to.”
Kim suddenly stops pacing, his eyes lighting up.
Kim Jong-il:
“I will host… the World Friendship Talent Show! Every country must send their best performers. And when I win, everyone will see I am the greatest leader in history!”
The generals exchange nervous glances but clap enthusiastically.
Act II: Team America Gets Involved
Cut to the Team America secret base.
The team is watching a news broadcast. The anchor announces Kim Jong-il’s talent show, showing footage of Kim singing a painfully off-key rendition of “My Heart Will Go On” in preparation.
Lisa:
“This is bad. If Kim wins, he’ll use it to spread propaganda and gain even more power.”
Gary:
“Wait, you’re saying we need to stop a talent show? This sounds… kind of stupid.”
Spottswoode:
“Nothing is stupid when it comes to protecting freedom! Kim Jong-il’s regime is a threat to the entire world. You’re going undercover as contestants to expose his evil plan.”
Chris:
“What’s the plan if he’s actually good at singing?”
Spottswoode:
“…Improvise.”
Act III: The Talent Show
The stage is set. Delegations from around the world arrive, including Team America disguised as a K-pop group called “Freedom Explosion.”
Kim Jong-il takes the stage to host.
Kim Jong-il:
“Welcome to the World Friendship Talent Show! Remember, the winner will receive a lifetime supply of kimchi and the honor of bowing to me personally. Let the show begin!”
The acts include a French mime troupe, Russian acrobats, and an American ventriloquist whose dummy keeps accidentally insulting Kim.
Finally, it’s Kim’s turn. He performs an original song called “I’m So Ronery: The Remix”, complete with pyrotechnics and backup dancers dressed as nuclear missiles. The crowd, terrified, gives a standing ovation.
Act IV: The Sabotage
Backstage, Team America discovers Kim’s real plan: he’s rigged the show to declare himself the winner and use the event to launch a missile disguised as a confetti cannon.
Lisa:
“He’s going to blow up the United Nations!”
Gary:
“Not if we blow up his ego first.”
During their performance, “Freedom Explosion” sings a parody of Kim’s song, mocking his regime and exposing his plan.
Lyrics:
“You’re so ronery, you’re so wrong,
This talent show’s a ticking bomb!”
Kim, enraged, storms the stage.
Kim Jong-il:
“How dare you mock me! Guards, arrest them!”
Act V: The Final Showdown
A chaotic fight breaks out, with Team America battling Kim’s guards in a dance-off that turns into a full-scale brawl. Kim tries to activate the missile, but Gary disables it by throwing a glitter bomb into the control panel.
Kim Jong-il:
“Nooo! My beautiful missile!”
The crowd, finally free from fear, starts booing Kim.
French Mime:
“Your singing is terrible!”
Russian Acrobat:
“Your statues are tacky!”
Kim flees the stage, tripping over his sequined cape.
Epilogue
With Kim’s plan foiled, the world celebrates Team America’s victory. Back at their base, the team reflects.
Gary:
“So… we stopped a talent show. Not exactly our most heroic mission.”
Lisa:
“Maybe not. But we reminded the world that freedom means more than just singing the loudest.”
Spottswoode:
“And we stopped a missile, so… win-win!”
Cue a dramatic montage of explosions, slow-motion high-fives, and the American flag waving triumphantly.
THE END
1984 Parody: Inner Party Member Conan O’Brien Roasts Supreme Leader Kim Jong-il
In the dystopian world of 2084, where telescreens monitored every thought and laughter was rationed by the Ministry of Mirth, Inner Party Member Conan O’Brien ruled over Airstrip One with an iron fist—and a razor-sharp wit. His totalitarian regime was built on the principle that controlled humor was the ultimate weapon of mass obedience.
But Conan had a rival. Across the seas in Eastasia, Supreme Leader Kim Jong-il ruled with his own brand of authoritarian absurdity, declaring himself the funniest man alive. The tension between the two regimes reached its peak during the annual Global Propaganda Comedy Summit.
The Comedy Showdown
The summit was held in a neutral zone—a giant, windowless auditorium adorned with banners reading “Big Brother is Watching… and Laughing” and “Kim Jong-il: The Sun of Humor.”
Conan took the stage first, his towering frame casting a shadow over the crowd. His hair, a symbol of Party perfection, gleamed under the harsh fluorescent lights.
Conan O’Brien:
“Good evening, comrades! I’d say it’s great to be here, but let’s be honest—none of us had a choice!”
The crowd erupted into synchronized laughter, their telescreens monitoring every chuckle for sincerity.
Conan O’Brien:
“Tonight, I have the honor of roasting Supreme Leader Kim Jong-il. Or, as I like to call him, Kim Jong-LOL. That’s right, Kim, I’m funnier than you—and unlike your jokes, my punchlines don’t come with a mandatory applause sign!”
The Roast Begins
Conan paced the stage, his grin sharp as a Party-issued razor.
Conan O’Brien:
“Kim claims he’s the funniest leader in the world. Really? This is the same guy who once declared that he invented comedy. Kim, buddy, if you’re so funny, why is your audience always crying? Oh, right—because they’re terrified.”
The crowd gasped, then laughed, unsure if they were allowed to find it funny.
Conan O’Brien:
“Kim’s idea of a joke is telling his people they’ve had a bumper harvest when the only thing growing is his statue collection. I mean, come on, Kim, you’ve got more statues than I have bad hair days—and that’s saying something!”
Kim Jong-il Fires Back
Kim, seated in a gilded throne at the edge of the stage, rose to respond. His sequined military uniform sparkled under the lights.
Kim Jong-il:
“Conan, you’re just jealous because I’m a triple threat: supreme leader, comedic genius, and karaoke champion. You? You’re just a glorified clown!”
Conan smirked, unshaken.
Conan O’Brien:
“Glorified clown? Kim, you’re right—I am a clown. But at least my circus doesn’t involve forced labor camps!”
Conan’s Regime Is Better
Conan turned to the crowd, his voice rising.
Conan O’Brien:
“In my regime, laughter is mandatory, but at least it’s funny. We’ve got jokes, sketches, and even a Ministry of Mirth-approved sitcom called Who’s Watching Big Brother? Meanwhile, in Kim’s regime, the only punchline is his haircut!”
The audience roared with laughter, some clutching their sides, others nervously glancing at their telescreens.
Conan O’Brien:
“My totalitarian regime may monitor your every move, but at least we give you a good laugh while we do it. Kim’s idea of entertainment is making his generals applaud his stand-up routine about rice quotas. That’s not comedy—that’s a hostage situation!”
The Final Blow
Kim, visibly fuming, tried to interject, but Conan delivered the final blow.
Conan O’Brien:
“Kim, you may think you’re the funniest man alive, but let’s face it—you’re the punchline. And in the battle of authoritarian humor, there’s only one winner: Big Brother, and his hilarious right-hand man, me!”
The crowd erupted into thunderous, synchronized applause, their laughter echoing through the auditorium.
Aftermath
Kim stormed out of the summit, vowing revenge. Meanwhile, Conan returned to Airstrip One, where his Ministry of Mirth broadcast the roast on every telescreen. Citizens laughed in unison, grateful for their benevolent overlord’s superior sense of humor.
As Conan reclined in his Ministry office, sipping a Party-approved beverage, he smiled.
Conan O’Brien:
“In the end, comedy isn’t about freedom—it’s about control. And nobody controls the punchline better than me.”
He laughed, and across Airstrip One, the people laughed with him, their joy as orchestrated as their lives.
A Few Good Jokes
Setting: A dimly lit courtroom in an undisclosed location. The air is tense. Tom Cruise, as Lt. Daniel Kaffee, paces before the witness stand, where Conan O’Brien sits in a tailored suit, his trademark smirk firmly in place. Behind Conan is a banner reading: “The Secret Society of Jesters – Humor Above All.”
Opening Statements
Kaffee (Tom Cruise):
“Ladies and gentlemen, we’re here today to uncover the truth. Not just any truth—the truth about the Secret Society of Jesters. A shadowy cabal of comedians, late-night hosts, and entertainers who allegedly control the world’s laughter. And at the center of it all? Conan O’Brien.”
Conan:
“Objection, Your Honor. This sounds like the plot of a mediocre Netflix documentary.”
Judge:
“Overruled. Proceed, Lt. Kaffee.”
Kaffee’s Interrogation
Kaffee:
“Mr. O’Brien, you’re a member of the Secret Society of Jesters, aren’t you?”
Conan:
“Lieutenant, I’m a member of a lot of things—Harvard alumni, the ‘Too Tall for Airplanes’ Club, and apparently, your imagination.”
Kaffee:
“Don’t play coy with me, Conan! We have evidence—late-night monologues, cryptic jokes, and a suspicious number of puns. You’ve been hiding something.”
Conan:
“Hiding something? Kaffee, I’m 6’4″. The only thing I can hide behind is a redwood tree.”
Kaffee:
“Answer the question! Are you or are you not the Grand Jester of the Secret Society?”
Conan:
leans forward, smirking
“Maybe I am. Maybe I’m not. What’s your punchline, Tom?”
The Pressure Mounts
Kaffee:
“I’ll tell you what the punchline is. The Jesters have been using their influence to manipulate global events. A well-timed joke can sway public opinion, defuse tensions, even start revolutions. Isn’t that right?”
Conan:
“Sure, if you think my ‘string cheese’ bit caused the Berlin Wall to fall.”
Kaffee:
“Enough with the jokes, Conan! People deserve to know the truth. What are the Jesters hiding?”
Conan:
grinning
“The recipe for perfect comedic timing. And maybe a killer guacamole recipe. What do you think, Lieutenant?”
Kaffee’s Famous Speech
Kaffee:
slams his hands on the table
“I WANT THE TRUTH!”
Conan:
calmly
“You can’t handle the truth… because it’s a setup for a joke you’ll never see coming.”
The courtroom gasps. Kaffee glares, his frustration mounting.
Kaffee:
“This isn’t a game, Conan. The Jesters have been pulling the strings for decades. Why does every major event seem to have a perfectly timed joke? The moon landing, the end of the Cold War, even the invention of TikTok. Coincidence? I don’t think so.”
The Truth Revealed
Conan:
faking exasperation
“Alright, alright, you got me. Yes, the Secret Society of Jesters exists. Yes, we’ve been behind some of the greatest jokes in history. But we’re not evil, Kaffee. We’re comedians. Our job is to keep the world laughing, even when it’s falling apart.”
Kaffee:
“Then why the secrecy?”
Conan:
“Because if people knew how much power comedy holds, they’d weaponize it. Imagine a world where bad jokes ruled. Where dad jokes became law. Where knock-knock jokes were mandatory. We’re the last line of defense against that dystopia.”
The Verdict
The courtroom falls silent. Kaffee stares at Conan, then nods.
Kaffee:
“You may have a point. But mark my words, O’Brien—if the Jesters ever cross the line, I’ll be back.”
Conan:
“Fair enough, Lieutenant. But next time, bring better material.”
As the gavel falls, Conan walks out of the courtroom, his laugh echoing in the halls. Kaffee watches him go, muttering to himself.
Kaffee:
“Why do I feel like I just got roasted?”