It was supposed to be an ordinary morning on the First Take set, the kind of routine day when cameras warmed up, producers shuffled papers, and Stephen A. Smith prepared for one of his explosive, perfectly delivered monologues. Nothing seemed unusual, and perhaps that’s exactly why the unexpected moment that followed became one of the most replayed clips in the show’s entire history.
The studio buzzed with activity as usual. Makeup artists finished last-minute touches, technicians adjusted lighting, and producers whispered into headsets. Molly Qerim sat quietly at the host desk, flipping through her cue cards, memorizing transitions, and mentally preparing for another high-energy debate between Stephen A. and whoever dared to go against him that morning.
Then chaos hit. Stephen A. reached for his stack of notes—only to find the spot completely empty. His hand hovered in the air while he stared at the desk in disbelief, as if he had just discovered a crime scene. “Hold up… where the hell are my notes?” he whispered loudly, enough for the behind-the-scenes camera to capture.
Molly glanced over, already smiling. “Stephen A., you probably left them by the coffee machine again,” she said in a calm, matter-of-fact tone that made the crew snicker under their breath.
But Stephen A. puffed out his chest, instantly defensive. “I did not. I am a professional.” He began checking his pockets, lifting random objects, and even looking under the chair with peak dramatic flair. “Someone is sabotaging me,” he declared.
Molly giggled. “Should I alert security? Or maybe call the FBI? We have a missing document situation.” Stephen A. shot her a wounded look, which only made her laugh harder.

A production assistant soon walked by holding the missing notes. “Stephen A., you left these by the coffee machine.” The expression on Stephen’s face was priceless—half embarrassment, half “please let this camera be off right now.”
Molly leaned back smugly. “A professional, huh?” she repeated his earlier words. Stephen A. quickly tried to recover. “I simply prepare in multiple locations.” Molly shook her head. “Stephen, that’s called losing something.”
Refusing to let Molly have the last laugh, Stephen A. pointed dramatically at the behind-the-scenes camera. “Delete this footage. I won’t allow slander.” Molly burst out laughing again. “Stephen… that camera is literally for online behind-the-scenes clips.”
His eyes widened. “Online? As in… millions of people will see this?” Molly nodded, enjoying every second of his panic. “Millions.” He let out a dramatic sigh. “Lord have mercy.”
As the countdown to go live began, Stephen A. tried to regain his composure. He straightened his tie, cleared his throat intensely, and said, “Alright, enough jokes. Time to be serious.” Molly fought hard to keep a straight face.
Then the moment happened—the one that turned the clip into internet gold. Right at “Going live in thirty,” Stephen A.’s phone blared loudly. Not a normal ringtone. Not even a sports-themed one. But an overly dramatic OPERA song that echoed around the room like they were broadcasting from an Italian theater.
Molly lost it instantly, laughing so hard she had to put down her cue cards. Stephen A. panicked and frantically grabbed his phone. Instead of silencing it, he accidentally hit the volume button, making the opera crescendo even louder. One producer nearly fell out of his chair trying not to laugh.
The opera reached its emotional peak just as the producer yelled, “TWENTY SECONDS!” Stephen A.’s eyes were full of despair. “Why today?” he whispered, as if pleading with the universe.
Finally, he managed to silence the phone. Molly wiped tears of laughter from her eyes and said the line fans still quote: “This is already the best episode… and we haven’t even started.”
Not willing to let the moment go, Stephen A. looked directly at the camera again. “If anyone posts this online, I’m filing a complaint with HR.” Molly immediately countered, “Stephen A., you chose that ringtone.”
He denied it instantly. “Lies. Someone changed it. Sabotage.” Molly shook her head. “Stephen… no one is hacking your phone to make you sound like a dramatic opera villain.”
When the clip finally made it online—because of course it did—fans exploded with excitement. Comments flooded in: “This is peak First Take energy,” “I need a sitcom with just these two,” “I’ve watched this 50 times,” and “Stephen A.’s opera ringtone is sending me.”
The video surpassed view counts for actual episodes, leaving producers joking that they should start every show with accidental bloopers. Stephen A. tried pretending to be upset, but fans noticed he smiled every time someone mentioned the moment. And Molly? She still teases him about it every time he picks up his phone—even when the sound is completely off.
The clip officially became one of First Take’s most famous behind-the-scenes moments, proving that sometimes the funniest, most memorable parts of live TV happen before the show even begins.