[ WP ] Leonardo DiCaprio in a fit of rage begins to torpedo his own career by deliberately acting poorly and taking on bad films . He finally wins an oscar for starring in Paul Blart : Mall Cop 3 .

'Well?' 
 
'Well what?' 
 
'Is it real?' 
 
'It's made of gold, if that's what you mean. A golden nugget of the purest horseshit I ever smelled. A perfect gift for a perfect cunt. Now go make me a coffee, Leah.' 
.................................................................................................................................................................. 
 
 The lowest moment of my entire existence. That was what started it all. 
 
'The Academy Award for Best Actor goes to... LEONARDO DI CAPRIO, for his role in Alejandro González Iñárritu's The Revenant!' 
 
 That's what I heard. I *swear* it. 
 
'Leo. Leo! *LEO*. Sit down, what are you doing?' 
 
 Jonah's a good guy, but fuck if I did n't want to punch the pity straight out of his fat face. It's not as though he had a glass cupboard full of them, either. He was no better than me. In fact he was unquantifiably shitter than me. The pale brown dot. Then, faster than light, I felt it spread. FUCK, please, somebody laugh it off with me. Jack, help. 
 
 A tsunami of self-gratifying commiseration pummeled me back down into my seat, and I took one last look at the bottom of my glass. 
................................................................................................................................................................. 
 
 Adam Sandler's guest house was the BEST. Adam has a great family. You can definitely see a lot of his humour in them. 
 
 How many people can truly say they have stayed with the Sandlers? I'm not ashamed to admit that I jerked it to Jill. She's a beautiful lady. It was her who introduced me to Kev. 
 
 Now I got ta say. I like the good things in life. I once sniffed a quarter ounce of the purest cocaine off of the navel of a recently deceased extra in Titanic. But Kevin, he takes the cake. And the biscuit, and the creme brulee, and every dessert you can imagine. In between takes he used to pay a little foreign girl to reach up his anus and evacuate his colon, just so he could jam one more profiterole into that sloppy black-hole of a mouth. So you think I was surprised when he told me he had has eyes on that chocolate statuette he knew I'd been craving? 
 
 Course fuckin not, but I've never been so convinced. He looked at me, squinty -eyed, strawberry sauce dripping from his lower lip, and told me it was mine, so long as he kept the actual statuette. 
 
 Took us 2 years. Two years of the most groundbreaking, brain-shattering, shit-shipping pure comedy known to man, woman and beast. Observational humour, slapstick, black, ironic, deadpan, tragic. One scene. One frame, even, of Kev moaning on the can, had it all. 
 
 Ever noticed *'Blart'* contains *'art'*? Thought not. Kev showed me that one. 
 
 You could say I was pretty confident, then. 
 
 Wheeling Kev down the red carpet, I could feel the atmosphere. Kevin, in his infinite genuis, said he could actually taste it. The buds on that man, goddamn. 
 
 I started this much-maligned fork in my career path to make a change. I accept, now, that the supposed'depth' in my previous films was as shallow as the baths Kev takes ( more than an two inches of water and you start to threaten the platinum vinyl-flooring in his self-styled vending-bathroom ). 
 
 When I first changed up, though, I wanted to say a big FUCK YOU to cinema. I felt I had given my all, for no reward. I was right of course. What I was wrong about, was the quality of my initial films. 
 
 Now, as I stand here, accepting this award, I realise what true film is about. So I'd like to thank Kev. Paul Blart: Mall Cop 3 may just be the single greatest cinematic experience in history. So thanks for recognizing the right one. 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 

