Jon Stewart Talks Future of 'The Daily Show' After Stephen Colbert's 'Late  Show' Cancellation

It’s not every night that a monologue gets upstaged by a food delivery. But when Jon Stewart pedaled his way through the audience of Jimmy Kimmel Live! in Brooklyn Thursday evening, brown paper bag in hand and deadpan as ever, the crowd instantly realized they were watching a comedy cameo in real time.

“What is happening here? Why are you delivering food?” Kimmel asked, breaking character mid-monologue as Stewart coasted onto the stage.

“I’m delivering food,” Stewart replied flatly. “On Thursdays I deliver for Grubhub… among other things. I’ve got some side hustles.”

It was classic Stewart: absurd, understated, and tinged with a very real commentary on the instability of late-night television itself.

A “Side Hustle” Life

Stewart didn’t stop at food delivery. Once settled on stage, he rattled off a full résumé of fictional odd jobs:

Mondays: hosting The Daily Show.

Tuesdays: working as a manny.

Wednesdays: hawking candied nuts from a sidewalk cart.

Thursdays: Grubhub deliveries.

Fridays: a New York City police horse.

The audience roared as he listed each new identity with increasing commitment. When Kimmel pressed him on why he needed so many jobs, Stewart dropped the punchline: “In case you haven’t heard, late-night talk show hosts — the job security is not really there right now.”

The line landed with laughter, but also with a sting of truth. With Colbert’s Late Show preparing to wind down and Kimmel himself returning from suspension earlier this fall, Stewart’s quip underscored the precariousness of an industry once considered TV’s most stable gig.

Banter Like Old Times

From there, Stewart and Kimmel fell into an easy rhythm, the kind that comes only when two veterans of the craft share the same stage. They riffed on the New York Mets’ never-ending heartbreak, Guillermo Rodriguez’s creative mispronunciations, and the prospect of Bruce Springsteen lurking backstage as the night’s musical guest.

“Can I stick around for The Boss?” Stewart asked.

“Yes,” Kimmel said with mock sternness. “But only if you swear not to get too handsy.”

It was a familiar comedic dance: Stewart playing the eager disruptor, Kimmel the exasperated straight man.

A Mock Scolding

Eventually, Kimmel tried to return to his monologue duties. Stewart wasn’t having it.

“I’m sorry, Mr. Free Speech,” he scolded in mock indignation. “Free speech is only for Mr. Free Speech.”

The jab was both playful and slyly pointed — Stewart has long used satire to needle media figures, even friendly ones.

A Pattern of Pop-Ups

This wasn’t Stewart’s first time crashing Kimmel’s plans.

In 2024, Stewart memorably hitched a ride with Kimmel, his wife Molly McNearney, and their children, to the kids’ visible confusion.

Earlier this year, Stewart randomly appeared in the middle of a Hollywood Boulevard bit Kimmel was taping outside his Los Angeles studio.

The running gag has turned into a kind of meta-commentary: Stewart as the ghost of late night past, present, and future, weaving in and out of other hosts’ worlds, always just a little unpredictable.

Stewart’s Return to the Spotlight

The Brooklyn cameo comes in the midst of Stewart’s high-profile return to The Daily Show, which he now hosts one night a week. His comeback has been greeted with a mix of nostalgia and scrutiny. Fans cheer the return of his incisive satire, while critics debate whether his brand of commentary still carries the same cultural weight it did in the early 2000s.

On Kimmel’s stage, however, Stewart seemed loose, playful, and unburdened by the expectations of being a franchise anchor. He was simply a comedian having fun — on a borrowed set, with a bag of food, and a knack for stealing the spotlight.

Kimmel’s Brooklyn Week

For Kimmel, the drop-in capped an already packed week of Brooklyn shows, filled with big-name guests, local flavor, and ratings attention. By staging his program away from Los Angeles, he injected a new energy into his format — something late-night often craves in the era of on-demand clips and fragmented audiences.

Having Stewart bike through mid-monologue added to the sense that these Brooklyn episodes are more event than routine — moments designed to go viral and remind viewers why live comedy still matters.

Late Night in Transition

Behind the laughs, there’s an undeniable subtext. Stewart’s crack about late-night job security isn’t just a gag.

Stephen Colbert’s Late Show is set to end after CBS and Skydance’s merger.

Jimmy Kimmel’s show recently weathered a suspension over a controversial monologue.

Jimmy Fallon has leaned into an apolitical, bipartisan tone to avoid similar pitfalls.

Seth Meyers continues to offer pointed political satire but faces constant pushback.

Stewart crashing Kimmel’s show while pretending to juggle side hustles was comedy rooted in truth: late-night is not the invulnerable institution it once was.

A Symbolic Cameo

What made the bit work so well wasn’t just Stewart’s timing. It was what his presence represented.

Here was one of the most influential late-night hosts of the past 30 years, popping up unannounced, delivering food like a gig worker, and openly joking about the fragility of the very industry he helped define.

For Kimmel, it was a coup — a reminder that even amid controversy, his show remains a space where comedy legends want to drop by. For Stewart, it was another chance to prove he can still seize the spotlight, not as a scold or pundit, but as a pure comedian.

Closing Thoughts

Jon Stewart crashing Jimmy Kimmel’s Brooklyn monologue wasn’t just a funny moment. It was a snapshot of late-night TV in 2025: unpredictable, collaborative, and laced with self-awareness about its uncertain future.

With a bag of Grubhub food, a joke about job insecurity, and an audience roaring at the absurdity of it all, Stewart reminded viewers of why his comedy still resonates.

And if his track record with Kimmel is any indication, this won’t be the last time he pops up uninvited — whether it’s in a carpool with the Kimmel kids, on a Los Angeles sidewalk, or in the middle of a Brooklyn stage, side hustle in tow.