Four inner voices battle it out: a cranky critic, a motivational cheerleader, a nonsense-spouting weirdo, and a doom-predicting future self. The sketch uses absurd humor and coarse language to show how self-doubt, imposter syndrome, and anxiety actually sound in your head.
You know that voice in your head, the one that stops you cold every time you go for the big dream? It's the voice that says, "Why bother? No matter what, you're gonna fail." Well, my inner critic is a cranky old guy with one nut and bad teeth. He's freaking everywhere, man.
I will.
Drink your egg.
Thank you. I will.
Today's my day.
Yeah, looking good, because today you are gonna rock, you are gonna look great, you are going to impress them.
You suck!
You suck!
Shit! Shit!
You old stinking Rotten, good-for-nothing, cheek-spreading motherfucker! You drive me nuts, you old disgusting bitch!
Why do you always come back?
You're a worthless piece of crap, McCallowitch. You're so full of crap, they should call you McCallowitsch. M-M-McCallis, yes. Cute! That was my college nickname.
College?
College? I mean, who gives two hoots, two hoots about college, huh? No college degree is gonna bring back my missing nut.
And what? Now I'm two poops away from the colossus and I got nothing to show for it. I am you, Nosebleed. I'm your future.
My future?
The economy sucks right now. These are hard times. No matter how hard you try, you're not gonna make it. No matter what. You're gonna end up a dried, pathetic old lump, eating baby food and watching The People's Court. Just waiting to die. Now, now you listen to me, old man.
It's gonna work this time. I've put a lot of effort into it. I just need one or two clients away from making it. Hey, hey, hey, slow down. Slow down, hooligan!
I'm getting sick. I need some Dramamine.
I'm not even driving!
Damn it, damn it, damn it!
