Friend of Wittertainment who coined the phrase Smiley Virus while on the show with David Morrissey. Told a lovely anecdote on the show about The Boat That Rocked, wherein he met the film's director Richard Curtis at a Norwich City game and asked him how the film was going; Curtis replied that the rough cut was three-and-a-half hours long. Fry asked him how he was going to deal with that, and he said "I'll just take an hour out." Which explains quite a lot about the final film.
Fry joined the Hello to... list after telling John Naughton that he had "no higher wish" than to be said hello to.
Fry also coined the alternative title Revenge Of The Sexually Pathological Voyeur for the Seth Rogan comedy Observe And Report.
On the December 1, 2016 show, Simon read out an e-mail sent by Stephen which ran thusly:
- Dear Frank and Virginia (Simon: which I like as an opening, because that'll be Frank Kermode and Virginia Mayo; Mark: Very good; Simon: Good old great aunt.), I don't think I can be the only member of the congregation wriggling in the pews and wanting desperately to contribute to the "crunchy" versus "crispy" colloquy, which seems to be threatening to rend Church unity asunder and create an unwelcome schism. (Mark: Okay.) I'm in the happy position, I think, to be able to help. It's all in a little letter: the letter "y". Unlikely as it seems, the adjectives "crispy" and "crisp" denote quite different qualities, textures and consistencies. I think, as with so many sem-- (Mark: Is this from Susie Dent? Simon: No. That's Guess #1. Mark: Okay.) I think, as with so many semantic issues, English speakers know this without necessarily being consciously aware of it: our usage shows our instinctive knowledge. We would be unlikely, for example, to describe a nice, fresh lettuce as being "crispy"; we would call it "crisp". We talk of a "crisp" fiver, a "crisp" morning, a "crisp" manner, a "crisp" Sauvignon Blanc, the snow lying deep and crisp and even and so forth. None of these would be "crispy". There are those, indeed, who suggest that the word "crispy" is a fraudulent newcomer to the language, but I think one can suggest that "crispy" has at least taken on its own meaning as more indicative of a kind of high-frequency treble-hiss texture. Crispy sprouts might have to be over-fried, and almost shatter or twinkle in the mouth, and so when we talk of a crispy skin condition, we think of an undesirable brittle quality akin to a rice crispy, which is a world away from the clean, crisp bite of a celery stalk or (Simon: --- and this is the giveaway, final flourish to the sentence which should give it away ---) or the cool, crisp welcome of a freshly starched gentleman's underlinen. (Mark: Is it Jason? Simon: No. Does Jason talk about the freshly starched gentleman's underlinen? I think not. I'll carry on.) It is clear, I think, that Mark likes his sprouts neither crispy nor crunchy but crisp. I suggest that, as a truce, you two (Simon: make, er) take hold of the "y" at the end of "crispy" and pull it as a festive wishbone. Loser does the washing up. Lots of love, (Simon: who's that from? Mark: David Morrissey? No, I don't know, it's very erudite. Simon: It is. Very erudite. Mark: Is it, is it some, is it like the Professor of Cleverology at Cambridge? Simon: And who would spring to mind --- who is the cleverest person who we know listens to the show? Mark: I don't know, I mean, Stephen Fry... Simon: Correct. Mark: NO!)
Stephen later found a restaurant selling crispy Brussels sprouts.