Remember that movie Caddyshack 2? Of course you don’t remember it because you never saw it because you’re a post-civilization marauder who doesn’t know what movies are. But I’ve decided to write this like I’m speaking to people from my time because otherwise what am I going to say? And I can’t not write this because people need to hear my courageous story.
The question is moot anyway because no one remembers Caddyshack 2 because it was horrible. It’s the poster child for crappy sequels. The only good thing about it is the Kenny Loggins song “Nobody’s Fool” which I wanted to include a cover of as a B-side on my album Louder than Words, which I would like to point out sold better than J-Lo’s On the 6 domestically. I was supposed to play a Ty Webb type character in a Caddyshack rip-off called Two Putts (the poster had two golf balls together that kind of looked like a butt, which makes no sense for a variety of reasons) but Jay Mohr pulled out of the lead role so he could be in Mafia! and without the “star power” of Jay Mohr, the financing fell through. I wonder how many lives could have been saved with the millions of dollars spent on movies that don’t end up getting made. Probably a lot. I mean they’re all dead now anyway. So I guess it’s fine.
Anyway the closest thing to anything approaching humor in Caddyshack 2 is when the guy from Ghostbusters gets snakebit in the ass and he asks the guy from National Lampoon Vacation movies to suck the venom out of said ass and Clark Griswold says “Is there any money in it?” which is almost mildly funny. It’s very close to being mildly funny.
We haven’t been here very long, but so far I have to say I am not enjoying this post-apocalyptic hellscape. It’s hot, and I means balls hot. That soggy hoggish variety of hot where it’s like you’re getting slapped with a piece of wet ham repeatedly even when you’re not. Which would be bad enough if I wasn’t marching through a tangle of nettle-y plants but also I’m doing that. I’ve heard people with bad knees say that walking down an incline is worse than going up, which sounded like nonsense to me before but now I get it. I feel like I have shin splints so bad I’ll never get unsplinted. There seems to be literally no flat ground, it’s all roots and rocks and plants and shit. I would seriously just like to take three steps without slipping and or tripping.
But what really sucks is that food we got from the ratlike traders is sitting like a rock in my belly. No, not a rock, more like a sea urchin, with the spines you know? One that’s still alive and is trying to poke its way to freedom. Slowly, relentlessly, Andy Dufresne poking its way through my belly. I feel like I’m all twisted up inside. If this is what food is like here, I’ll be dead soon. Which would maybe be a relief at this point. Did you know that until modern times, for every soldier that died in battle, seven shit themselves to death? Literally I mean, on account of they had dysentery. Point is, I was doing my business when I got Caddyshacked – a fucking snake bit me on the ass.
Martialla said that she doesn’t think it’s venomous. She didn’t see the snake that got me but she said the bite shape is that of a non-venomous snake, being U-shaped instead of two-hole vampire shaped. She also said that it doesn’t really matter anyway because there’s nothing we could do about it if it was venomous. She said that that old cowboy tale of cutting the wound and sucking out the poison is pure nonsense. The poison is in your bloodstream instantly, it’s like pee in a pool, there’s no getting it out. So if it was venomous, either I’ll survive it on my own or I won’t. Cheery huh?
My left cheek has swollen up to Jennifer Lopez proportions but if Martialla is to be believed, that doesn’t necessarily mean that it’s venomous, she said that a barracuda bit her on the arm once and it swelled up like crazy. Sounds like the real issue is making sure that the wound doesn’t get infected. She said what we could really use is some alcohol.
She doesn’t know how right she is about that.
I was so focused on limping along with my half-Lopezed butt and my twisted gut that I bumped into Martialla without realizing that she had stopped. The not-road had led us to a path – like a real path – through the foliage. I said that it could be an animal path but she pointed to what was clearly a shoeprint. More like a moccasin print, but you know what I mean.
We both looked at each other. Decision time. Do we want to avoid where other people are or seek them out? Do we rely on the kindness of strangers or keep to ourselves? Neither seems to offer very good odds of staying alive for long.
I gestured vaguely “You need to make the call on this one Mar, I’m falling apart over here, I kind of want to die right now. I don’t think my judgement can be trusted at the moment.”
She looked down both avenues of the path for a long time “Just like when you decided to be in Cobra Two.”
“Look, that film got really screwed up in editing.”
Martialla decided that we should follow the trail. Wasn’t much of a decision really, it’s not like we’re going to find a patch of land and start farming. Unless we can find someone to interact with, we’re not going to last long. Traveling on the path was much easier (that’s why people make them you know) but it was still a struggle for me. At one point Martialla pointed out hoof prints on the trail which really lifted my spirits. Sure, riding a horse isn’t great for a snake-swollen buttocks but it would be nice to let someone else do the work.
We stopped to rest and even though my guts felt like twisting barbed wire, Martialla told me to eat some of the energy bars. I wonder what would happen to me if I tried to live just on energy bars. Die of malnourishment, I suppose. I don’t know if I nodded off or passed out (there’s a difference right?) but when I came around for a second, I thought that Martialla had left me there. Not only left but that she had taken all the supplies too. That was easily the most terrified second of my life. But she was there dragging me to my feet by the straps of my backpack.
I looked at her sweatily “I suppose this is the part where I should tell you to take the supplies and go on alone, leaving me to die.”
She snorted “No chance of that eh? I’m pretty sure you told me one time if you were ever on life support and your estate ran out of money, I should start running drugs to keep you alive.”
I smiled wanly “How else are you going to make serious money? Not as a high-class escort right?”
She chuckled “You know I’m your stunt double right? Whenever you make a comment about my looks, you’re actually putting yourself down as well.”
“Stunt double Mar, stunt double, not body double, very important difference.”
“I suppose that’s why I wasn’t in your softcore porn movies.”
“School of Hard Knockers is not softcore porn! There was less nudity per minute in School of Hard Knockers than there was in Revenge of the Nerds. So are you saying that Revenge of the Nerds is softcore porn?! Because if that’s what you’re saying you’ve gone completely insane!”
Rocket Cat 