“Caddyshack” (A Mumtidimentional Mixtape) {Enter The Multiverse} From Wikipedia: Caddyshack is a 1980 American sportscomedy film directed by Harold Ramis, written by Brian Doyle-Murray, Ramis and Douglas Kenney, and starring Chevy Chase, Rodney Dangerfield, Ted Knight, Michael O'Keefe and Bill Murray with supporting roles by Sarah Holcomb, Cindy Morgan, and Doyle-Murray. It tells the story of a caddie, vying for a caddie scholarship, who becomes involved in a feud on the links between one of the country club's founders and a nouveau riche guest. A subplot involves a greenskeeper who uses extreme methods against an elusive gopher. Caddyshack was Ramis's directorial debut and boosted the career of Dangerfield, who was previously known mostly for his stand-up comedy. Grossing nearly $40 million at the domestic box office (the 17th-highest of the year),[3] it was the first of a series of similar comedies. The film has a cult following and was described by ESPN as "perhaps the funniest sports movie ever made" SAUCE (IN CASE YOU MISSED IT) —- AHAHA. ITS ME AGAIN. OH SHIT! Oh shit, i guess it's Jimmy Fallon's Galaxy. Oh nooo. Oh, yes. Look at this penny. I see you. Now look into my eyes. I see you, Jesus. Ahahaha! Okay, now what? This shit is twisted I missed the shift of the dimensions— Till Jimmy walked in with his pennies For some cigarettes and swishers, Just to get the picture It's 5 AM again, And it's still Infinite, I'm disinterestedd as ever in living in LA, Or just living, period— But it is what it is, I work for my rent, I've repented for this, Used to sleep in a tent, But when I was an Infant, I instantly— Wait, a customer walked in. I better help him. Heaven help him. Another level, Call dr. Nevel, Or an Ambulance, I just can't get it Just can't get it, Wait, let's insert some of the script here, I guess. Took you long enough, didn't it? That took forever. How are you alive? Maybe I'm not. Finally, we agree on something. Oh, this guy Lol. Good to see you again. Likewise, now— Here it goes… As you promised. Working on it. As I promised. Take my heart for granted, Take my soul, If this is loveless Till the end, I just can't manage, having Thoughts of death and tragic ends I haven't Felt the same since Waking up without the day to come ahead; The day has passed again A test, No fail, or pass It's just progressive, In a trance, It's just the stress, It's just to pass the time, I guess, if this is purpose Then, we'll see if this is worth it Now, or never, then Now or never, Never had a friend, All envious at best, This is the end all, In the end, it's just Me and God, And God would want A better body, To have fun I wished it all at once, And then I watched it crumble Oh, I watched it Stumble in, again, my friend I'm different when it's wet, I might not never see the Sun again I might not ever love again Oh well “Oh well” , I said Oh, well, I guess Oh well Okay. One hour left. Okay. Who gets the gold? Hum. Honestly I didn't want to hear a thing ; I had quit music—I just wasn't cut out for the industry—I was, but not by societal standards by far; my lowly place in the smoke shop would have to do for now, and though I knew it wouldn't sustain, there wasn't much else I could do but keep showing up, for as long as it lasted—dresses in at least 2 layers and 5 pairs of socks tucked into boots two-sizes-too-big I had been forced to purchase specifically due to the frigid and painful, freezing temperatures at the locations I worked, which kept its doors open 24/7. Play Iambic. What, right now? Yeah, play Iambic. Uh… Iambic played st exactly 1 hour and 19 minutes—it's script, the transcribed rendition crafted especially for the Broadway stage, an 88-page-masterpiece collecting dust in the confines of my Google Documents, along with anything else I had written and had yet the advantage of placing anywhere besides my podcast channels, which I constantly thought about cancelling, despite its innumerous downloads—nothing really seemed to matter anymore, as I was trapped in my body, in a loveless world, in a dead-end job and though my bed was clean and comfy, sharing the room wirh 3 others became exhausting. INT. SMOKESHOP. 5:58 AM DREW BARRYMORE … SUPACREE … I'm done. I quit. QUIT?! YOU CAN'T QUIT. Nope. That's it. I quit. You can't quit. I just did. I hadn't quit the music industry—the music industry had quit me. I wasn't pretty enough, skinny enough, light skinned enough, or willing to do what any of the other girls were to get ahead. WTF is THIS. Since you like to troll so much, I just thought I'd turn you into one This is not Kosher, 199x Jimmy Fallon; Let me out of this plastic —not exactly “fireproof” — death box, before I let myself out, and I trap you in...
