Amy Schumer: Mostly Sex Stuff Stand Up, Comг©di... -

She strutted to the mic, squinting against the spotlight. "Hi guys. Wow. You all look great. I look like a thumb that someone tried to dress up for prom, but we’re making it work."

For the next hour, Amy didn't just tell jokes; she performed an anatomical exorcism. She broke down the awkward gymnastics of "trying to look sexy" while accidentally catching a glimpse of yourself in a mirror at a bad angle—"I looked like a rotisserie chicken falling out of its packaging." Amy Schumer: Mostly Sex Stuff Stand Up, ComГ©di...

The laughter was immediate, that comfortable, expectant kind. Amy leaned in, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial stage whisper. She strutted to the mic, squinting against the spotlight

"Oh, sweetie, don't look at him," Amy pointed at the man. "He's terrified. He just learned things about biology that his high school coach skipped. It's okay, Dave. It’s all natural. Mostly." You all look great

She took a final swig of lukewarm water, adjusted her blazer, and stepped into the wings. The wall of heat and the smell of stale beer hit her first. Then, the roar of the crowd. "Please welcome... Amy Schumer!"