Earlier I presented my list for some of the best comedies of all time. So, naturally, I pondered what on the flip-side of the coin would be the worst comedy of all time. It was an easy choice as there is only one movie worthy of a nomination.

You know, I like Dan Aykroyd. He’s a founding member of SNL, a goddamn Ghostbuster, and frankly, one of the most underrated comedy minds in the past 30 years. He is certainly someone to respect. From Roman, Beldar, Boolie, Elwood, the “You wanna see something really scary?” guy in Twilight Zone: The Movie, to Harry Sultenfuss even, these are all characters you know, and perhaps love, as performed sufficiently by Mr. Aykroyd. I mean he is Ray, for Bill Murray’s sake.

Is he of the quality of a just mentioned Bill Murray or even Steve Martin? No, but then, no one is. Aykroyd just gets the job done. That is unless you let him write and direct his bizarre wet-dream of a nightmare project while giving him complete control and letting him run wild with his insanity. When that happens, horrible movies happen.

Case in point:

Now, if you were 1991, a movie with Chevy Chase and Demi Moore may not sound like a bad idea. But then again, if you were 1991, you were totally into Color Me Badd, so what do you know, 1991? You don’t know anything! Go away, 1991. Chevy was at the slickened precipice of his once unrivaled career as the brightest light of the former-SNL-cast stable staring down upon the sad man we see today. This movie is why. This movie killed Chevy Chase. This movie made Chevy Chase turn into a creepy, unfunny, fat man that makes us sad to be alive. Thanks Aykroyd.

I’ve never been a big Demi Moore fan but this was the first movie I ever saw with her in it, which is why, I imagine, I’m not a big Demi Moore fan. Thanks Aykroyd. Although, considering she lets Ashton Kutcher put his li’l kutch inside of her willingly and likes to Twitter like anyone would care about her shitty life with Ashton Kutcher, odds are I would have hated her anyhow. She was in Striptease, as well. So that’s plenty of reasons to dislike her. Why does Striptease exist? Because of Nothing But Trouble. Well, and because Burt Reynolds is awesome.

John Candy is dead because of this movie. Can I prove this? Yes, have you seen the movie? It killed John Candy. Well, candy and this movie killed John Candy. He was a big man. But worse than John Candy being dead is it made me hate John Candy for an hour and a half. You don’t forgive a thing like that. Gone was Uncle Buck or Barfolemew, enter this monstrosity:

Thanks Aykroyd.

This is the part where you might expect me to say: “Hey, you should go rent this movie so you can see for yourself just how bad it is! It’s currently playing late night on Starz! Check it out and see it in all of it’s horrific glory!” But really people, don’t. This isn’t one of those good/bad movies like Clash of the Titans or Killdozer. This isn’t a laugh with your buddies at the bad movie, bad movie. It’s just bad in the way that you’ll be haunted for years by its every visage. On your deathbed, this movie will be what you think of. I already dread it.

I’ve never felt worse in my life than when the credits rolled at the end of it. Not the time I almost drown with the kid down the street sat on my head while we were swimming. Not the time I probably ran that guy over but kept driving because who really wants to look at a freshly dead hobo? Never. And as the rest of my article here has shown, I’m not into hyperbole. I knew I had just watched the worst movie ever created, and I was angry. It is possible that I’ve never been angrier. If only because Dan Aykroyd had the balls to have the ending insinuate that there could be a sequel, like a threat.

Thanks Aykroyd.