Watching YouTube clips of James “girdle” Cordon getting boyed off by Patrick Stewart for more than 30 seconds is likely to send the cringe gland into spastic overdrive, depleting the body of essential vitamins and nutrition. With repeated viewings this will turn into a cancer. Possibly of the brain, bile or soul.
James Cordon can’t even look in the mirror without fear of his beady little eyes and jowly, unfunny face radiating beams of pure cancer into his bloated body, like a cancerous cockatrice or basilisk, only less mythical, less interesting, far more portly and ultimately much less funny.Even the terminally unfunny Michael McIntyre isn’t immune from the poisonous rays of Cordon.
If the two were in a room for any length of time, Michael would have to become even squeakier and more sanitized in a vain attempt to lighten the bleak atmosphere. Needless to say, it wouldn’t work.
The two of them together would kick out such a strong comedy vacuum that anyone caught in it would soon lose the ability to smile or feel any emotion at all, aside from a gloomy malaise somewhat akin to Will Self playing a delirium tremens apparition in a David Lynch film.
Cordon needs to be cordoned off for the safety of the British public, possibly used as an eldritch obese plug for a Japanese Nuclear reactor, or just thrown through an industrial sized wood chipper for use as fertiliser, perhaps to grow some sort of fat, unfunny flowers.