Wait, wait, wait, wait, wait! I forgot. The fourth time I met OJ Simpson.

The fourth time is not the funniest time, but it was the last time I’d see the Juice. For some reason, I was at the Kentucky Derby. It’s a very long story. This is right after I quit Chappelle’s Show in spectacular fashion. There was a party hosted by Michael Jordan, and every athlete I’ve ever admired was in that room. Yes. And then I saw a familiar face by the bar, standing there, drinking alone. It was Chris Tucker.

Now… you have to remember, at this time, we were both technically missing. And we went over, and we’re talking with one another, and motherfuckers were amazed to see us together. Seeing me and Chris Tucker at that point would be like seeing Bigfoot riding a unicorn. You wouldn’t believe that’s what you were seeing. And then, through all the gawkers, a familiar face pushed through the crowd. Here he was again. The Juice. He had his camera ready. He was like, “Dave, Chris. Good to see you guys. Hey, come on, guys. Let’s all get together for a picture.”

And at the same time, me and Chris were like, “No. I can’t do that. Sorry, Juice, my career is too flimsy to survive a picture with you.” That’s the end. Good night.