ep.294 結果的に福岡でライブを1人でやった話

The Two-Pancake Problem and a Devotion to Flat-Cut Noodles

A listener letter kicks things off with a familiar grievance: when two pancakes are stacked, the bottom one goes cold by the time you reach it, and the butter refuses to melt. Hashimoto's proposed fix is a plate long enough to serve both side by side—though he grants that it would have to be absurdly long and narrow, which becomes its own punchline. He then admits that he has no real interest in 'things that are just flour puffed up,' yet finds himself drawn to the story—picked up from Banana Man Shitara's radio show—that the Imperial Hotel was the first place in Japan to serve pancakes. 'Just that one time, I'd go,' he says. He closes the segment by conceding that butter is, in the end, delicious, then immediately adding 'but I could also do without it,' and rounds off with a vivid memory of eating a frozen pancake straight from the freezer during the period his microwave was broken—'the single worst thing I have ever tasted.'

On noodles, he is categorical: every noodle in the world should be flat-cut. Ramen, soba, udon, yakisoba, tsukemen—flat-cut is superior in all cases. If the menu says flat-cut, he always orders it.

September 25—Unagi Goes Down, Hashimoto Handles Itabashi Alone

September 23 was already packed: an afternoon job, an evening show at Yomiuri Hall, and then a recording of Omusubi Radio. September 24 was a day off. On September 25, while Hashimoto was on location for a shoot with Shino-chan, a message arrived from Unagi around noon to 1 p.m.: 'High fever, can't get up.' His manager followed with, 'This might be difficult.'

In the shower, Hashimoto began turning over the idea of going solo—then talked himself out of it: he didn't know the layout of the venue, and there was no video content prepared for the monitors. Then the agency called and put the question directly: 'We'll issue refunds, but Hashimoto-san, would you like to do it alone?' He said yes. Unagi's doctor confirmed a stop order shortly after. Hashimoto explains why he pushed for a decision the day before: 'Being told on the morning of the show that your partner can't make it—I wouldn't wish that on anyone in the audience.'

That same night, he appeared solo at a Yoshimoto traveling manzai show in Itabashi. It was a crowd that hadn't necessarily come to see Ginshiari (銀シャリ), with plenty of people who had no idea who he was. He was genuinely nervous. Even so, he discovered something: 'There's a real rush to standing at the center mic alone.' He compared it to the feeling Sakamoto Kyu must have had singing 'Ue o Muite Arukō.' The laughs landed. Afterward, he said his goodbyes to the sound crew and Yoshimoto staff and rode the train home alone—he doesn't hide how starkly solitary that felt—but the experience handed him exactly the confidence he needed for the next day.

Show Day—Premium Eel from Hanamaru-san and 800 in the Crowd

On the morning of September 26, comedians from Yoshimoto's Fukuoka Gekijou (福岡劇場) offered to make guest appearances. Hashimoto turned them down: 'I felt like I had to see it through on my own.' Then Hanamaru-san of Hanamaru Daikiichi called. 'It'd be lonely without Unagi around,' he said, and arranged a delivery of premium eel, dispatching Fukuoka comedian Nitta-kun to bring it over. Hashimoto thanked him at length over the phone. 'I felt like that alone bought me several more minutes on stage,' he says—though he briefly wondered whether having Nitta-kun appear at all would technically mean he hadn't done it solo.

The show ran 120 minutes, 30 more than the planned 90. The 1,000-capacity venue saw about 150 refunds and roughly 20 regulars who didn't come, leaving around 800 in the seats—'basically NGK scale,' as Hashimoto puts it. A dozen or so people showed up without seeing the announcement and were visibly puzzled about why he was alone. The overall mood, Hashimoto says, was like 'a night the breaker trips, and everyone decides to just make do with candles.'

Day Two: Three More Sets, and Praise from Fellow Comedians

The following day, Hashimoto did three solo sets at Fukuoka Gekijou. He looks back with a wry laugh: 'Two days after a high fever, there would have been time to call in a replacement—why was I still alone?' Among the comedians who had been present for both the Itabashi and Fukuoka shows were members of Jeradone (ジェラードン) and Ume-mura of Rough Jigen (ラフ次元・梅村), who found him in the smoking room and backstage at Fukuoka Gekijou to say, 'Yesterday in Itabashi—you were incredible.' Nishimoto-kun was there too and said the same thing the moment he saw him. On X, some posts turned the simultaneous illness of multiple comedians into conspiracy-theory fodder. Hashimoto laughed it off, but let a trace of frustration through: 'Someone write the story properly—about how Hashimoto pulled it off solo. Quick Japan, come find me.'