It’s good to see so many… so many different people here from so many different ethnicities. Very diverse crowd. Looks like you thought Bernie Sanders was gonna come out in this motherfucker. But… surprise! It’s me. Yeah. Yeah, you know, I’m happy, really, to see black people come. A lot of black people don’t fuck with me like they used to. But there’s a few reasons you don’t see black people at my shows. One is because, obviously, black people have slower Internet connections. I mean, that would be my guess. I don’t know what– Actually, my own actions drew a wedge between me and the community I hold so dear.

A couple of weeks ago, I was supposed to be in Flint, Michigan, for a charity benefit that was supposed to raise awareness for the appalling condition of the water in Flint. I don’t know if you know this, but the water in Flint is fucking poisonous. It’s actually making people sick. Hollywood people are like, “So what? At least they have water.” But this water– this water is fucked up. So, a lot of black celebrities flew into Flint, and they did a tremendous charity benefit, and I was on the schedule to appear.

Uh… So, the reason a lot of people haven’t heard about this benefit– it was the same day as the Oscars. Right, I know. So, I was on my way to the airport to go to Flint, and then Chris Rock calls me and is like, “Hey, Dave, I got a ticket for you for the Oscars. Can you make it?” And I was like, “Sure, n***a. I’m on my way to the airport right now.” Come on, man. What am I gonna do about that water? What am I, a fucking superhero? I need to have fun. I need to live, too! I didn’t fuck that water up! Stevie Wonder was there. They didn’t need me. I’m sorry, everybody. I’d never been to the Oscars. You’ve seen the movies I make. I was excited.

I knew I was gonna get into some trouble, because when I was walking on the red carpet, the black press came after me. “Excuse me, brother.” When you hear somebody call you “brother” too much, something terrible is about to happen. “Excuse me, brother. Brother?” And I looked back, and the motherfucker had a tuxedo with the kente cloth tie. I said, “Uh-oh.” He said, “I just want to ask you a couple questions.” I said, “What publication are you with?” He said, “Me? I’m with The Daily Bongo.” I said, “Daily Bongo? What the fuck? Who the fuck reads this?” He said, “Listen, brother, I just want to ask you a quick question. You understand that this year, this is a boycott for the Oscars. So, I’m just wondering what made you, of all people, cross the motherfucking picket line and be here tonight.”

I said, “Boycott? N***a, I haven’t been working in ten years. What do you mean, boycott? I’ve been on strike. Y’all n***as didn’t stop working. I had to watch fucking Key and Peele do my show every night! So, fuck The Daily Bongo,” is what I said.

I went to the Oscars and had a wonderful time. I went in that fucking green room. It was filled with so many stars, I couldn’t even believe what I was seeing. Hollywood was seducing me all over again. I was sitting back there. I’m smoking, drinking with the stars.

And then two Hollywood movie producers came over, right to me. “Oh, my God. Dave Chappelle,” said the leader one. He was obviously gay. Some guys, you can just tell. The other one seemed like a money guy. Maybe he was from Texas or some shit. But the gay one was definitely the leader because he did all the talking. And then he hit me with: “So, David, um… do you have any movie ideas that you would like to pursue?” The truth is, I don’t. But if you know the game, you’re not supposed to tell motherfuckers you don’t have ideas. I was like, “Yeah, man. I got plenty of ideas.” And he called my bluff. “Really? Like what?” “Huh? Oh. Um… um…”
And then I just started making up shit that I thought maybe he’d like to see. I said, “I have a superhero idea.” He goes, “Really?” I go, “Yeah. He’s a– He’s a gay superhero.”

He was like, “Really?! What’s it called?” “Huh? Oh, it’s called– It’s called Same Hero, New Boots. It’s about a gay sous-chef in San Francisco… that gets bit by a radioactive rat on his shift when he’s taking out the trash and is blessed with powers beyond his wildest dreams, supersonic gay kind of powers. And he starts saving everybody in San Francisco. But at first, he only saves gay people. Later, he saves everybody, and the whole city just falls in love with him. The only problem is, no one remembers him when he saves them.” “Well, I don’t understand. Why wouldn’t they remember him?” I said, “Because, dummy, he’s gay. He keeps changing his outfit. People come up– ‘Thanks for saving me, sir. What’s your name anyway?’ He’s like, ‘Same Hero, New Boots!’ And that motherfucker flies away.”

He was like, “I like it a lot.” The Texan didn’t like that shit at all. He was upset. “That’s impossible, a gay superhero.” I said, “What? Well, I have others. I have a superhero you’d love, ’cause he’s stronger than Superman and he fights for truth, justice and the American way, like Superman, but more than Superman. He beats up Mexicans for no reason.” The Texan’s like, “You got my attention.” I’m like, “Man, this motherfucker’s so strong, he can fly and do all this great shit. Only problem with this guy is he can’t even activate his powers unless he touches– unless he touches a woman’s vagina. Not a long touch, just a couple of pats.” He said, “Well, what’s the problem with that?” I said, “The problem, sir, is that our hero is not a handsome man. And he’s often short on cash. So, whenever trouble breaks out, he has to run around the city and convince women to let him pat their vaginas. ‘Please, miss! That building’s on fire. Can I pat your vagina? Quickly. People are dying!’ But he can’t tell them exactly why. ‘Eww! Get away! You’re gross!’ ‘Please, miss! People are dying! Just a couple of pats!’ ‘Eww! Gross! Get away!’ So, he rapes them.

I know, I know. That’s the dilemma for the audience. Because he rapes, but he saves a lot of lives. And he saves way more than he rapes, and he only rapes to save. But he does rape.” I didn’t realize it, but the whole green room was looking at us. All the celebrities were disgusted. “Ohh.” That guy from Texas was like, “Here’s my card. Call me on Monday.” That worked out.