All your life you have been told you’re funny, everyone always says you should be a comedian when you grow up. Finally you believe them and move to Hollywood with your girlfriend, who also shares your dream. Y’all drink for 3 months until you’ve worked up the courage to hit up the open mic night at The World Famous Comedy Store. Both you and your woman sign up but only you get picked to go onstage that night. The open mic is not watched by the booker, the other comics or even a crowd; the room is empty, gloomy and silent. You go up and eat shit on the mic. That’s bad enough but then the host comes back onstage and calls you a pedophile. Then the next comic goes up and also calls you a pedophile (years later this particular “comedian” will sell enough weed to the booker to get his name on the wall of The Store, rendering the honor meaningless). You walk home with your girlfriend. She weeps. She weeps not for you and how you have been humiliated, she weeps for herself because she didn’t get picked to go up and be humiliated as well. She leaves you for the King Beta Male of the open mic scene. You toil in obscurity. Welcome to Hollywood!