Ian pressed it.
BWOOP. Ian hit the button.
“You see?” Ethan finally said, wiping his eyes. “You see what you’re dealing with? You’re not arguing with me. You’re arguing with a goblin, a failed DJ, a silent genius, and thirty thousand soundbites.” h3 soundbites
The guest’s face went slack. Hila snorted. The entire crew burst into hysterical, gasping laughter. Even Ethan, mid-insult, lost his train of thought and just pointed at the ceiling, tears streaming down his face. Ian pressed it
Ethan opened his mouth, but for once, nothing came out. He looked lost. “You see
The guest sneered, “Let’s be honest, Ethan. Your whole career is just reacting to other people’s content.”
The soundbites were more than jokes. They were a language. When Ethan began a long-winded, rambling apology for something trivial, Ian would press “I’m sorry… I’m SO sorry,” a clip of a tearful YouTuber, and the whole room would laugh, letting Ethan off the hook. When a guest said something surprisingly profound, the ethereal choir of “Ayyy… he’s a legend” would echo through the speakers.