“We Don’t Need CBS Anymore”: The Fictional Comeback

of Stephen Colbert and Jasmine Crockett That’s

Redefining Late-Night TV

It’s the kind of headline that sounds too wild to be true – and that’s because it isn’t true.

But imagine this: Stephen Colbert, the late-night legend once thought to be finished after his CBS exit, suddenly

returns to television – not with a network, but with a movement. And standing beside him is Jasmine Crockett,

the bold, sharp-tongued voice of a new generation.

In this imagined world, their comeback isn’t just a show – it’s a statement.

The Fall Before the Rise

In this story, Colbert’s departure from The Late Show had left fans

stunned. After years of defining political comedy, ratings slipped,

executives grew restless, and a quiet internal battle for creative control

reached a boiling point.

The fictional version of Colbert didn’t go quietly. He gave one last,

emotional monologue to his audience:

“Sometimes, the loudest laugh is the one that says, ‘I’m still here.””

Those words would come to define what happened next.

Months passed. Rumors swirled about new projects, failed deals, and

quiet meetings in Los Angeles cafés. But no one saw this coming — a

partnership with Jasmine Crockett, a rising cultural firebrand known for

her fearless commentary, authenticity, and magnetic online presence.

The Unexpected Alliance

In this imagined timeline, their first meeting happens backstage at a

charity gala in New York. Crockett had been a guest speaker on youth

empowerment; Colbert was there to host. They hit it off instantly – not

as celebrity and fan, but as two people fed up with the same thing: how

corporate media filters truth through fear.

“You still believe in real talk?” she asked him, half-joking. “Only if it

makes the bosses nervous,” he replied.

That line became the foundation of their new venture.

Over late-night coffees and marathon brainstorming sessions, they

began sketching out a concept: “The Colbert & Crockett Project.” Not a

talk show in the traditional sense – but a live conversation lab, filmed

before diverse audiences, streamed directly to fans, and owned entirely

by its creators.

The Rebirth of Late Night

When the fictional announcement finally dropped — a bold, minimalist

teaser reading “We Don’t Need CBS Anymore” – it hit like an earthquake

across Hollywood. Industry analysts called it “career suicide.” Fans

called it “revolutionary.”

The premiere episode, titled “Permission Not Granted,” opened with

Colbert walking onstage to thunderous applause. Instead of a

monologue, he stood beside Jasmine and grinned:

“They said we couldn’t do late night without a network. We said — watch

us.”

The format was raw, fast, and unpredictable. One night featured

comedians and political activists debating online censorship; another, a

jam session with indie musicians and Gen Z creators. Crockett’s quick

wit balanced Colbert’s veteran timing, creating electric chemistry that

audiences couldn’t get enough of.

Hollywood’s Shock – and CBS’s Silence

In this alternate world, the success of The Colbert & Crockett Project

spreads faster than anyone expected. Within a month, clips rack up tens

of millions of views on TikTok and YouTube. A segment called “Truth

Interrupted”, where guests are challenged to confront viral

misinformation, becomes a cultural phenomenon.

Major celebrities start calling — not for scripted interviews, but to have

real conversations.

Meanwhile, CBS executives in this fictional version of events refuse to

comment publicly, but industry insiders whisper about regret. “They

underestimated him,” one fictional producer says. “They thought he

needed the network. Turns out, the network needed him.”

A New Kind of Power

Beyond entertainment, the fictional duo’s success becomes a symbol of

creative freedom in the streaming era. Independent voices, online

creators, and small production houses point to their story as proof that

the era of gatekeeping is over. Crockett, in one powerful fictional

episode, looks straight into the camera and says:

“They told us to wait for permission. We decided to make noise instead.”

The moment goes viral, inspiring thousands of creators to start their own

shows, podcasts, and movements. Colbert, in his signature dry humor,

later jokes:

“We might not have CBS, but we’ve got Wi-Fi — and that’s all a

revolution needs.”

The Emotional Finale

The imagined season finale ends on a reflective note. Colbert thanks the

audience for “staying curious,” while Crockett reads a letter from a

young fan who says watching them “made truth feel cool again.” As the

lights dim, Colbert looks at Jasmine and says:

“You know what this really is, right?” “What?” she smiles. “Late night

finally awake.”

The screen fades to black, and millions of viewers flood social media

with the same words: #LateNightAwake

Why This Fictional Story Resonates

Even though this comeback doesn’t exist — yet — the idea behind it

captures something real: the hunger for honesty, connection, and

creativity unchained from corporate rules. It’s the fantasy of every

comedian who ever wanted to speak freely. The dream of every viewer

tired of predictable, polished scripts.

And maybe, just maybe, it’s a glimpse into the future of what late-night

television could become if artists like Stephen Colbert and Jasmine

Crockett were truly free to speak without filters.

Because in this imagined world, they didn’t just return to TV. They

reclaimed it.