In the pantheon of sequel surprises, few moments have sparked as much chaos and conversation as Eminem’s cameo in Happy Gilmore 2, the long-awaited follow-up to Adam Sandler’s 1996 golf comedy classic. Released on July 18, 2025, the Netflix original has been breaking streaming records, but it’s one particular sequence—featuring the rap legend wrestling a massive crocodile, meeting a gruesome (yet hilarious) end, and then materializing in the heavens alongside his on-screen dad for a final, defiant middle finger—that has fans losing their minds. Described as “unhinged, iconic, and peak chaotic comedy,” the scene is a masterclass in absurdity, paying homage to the original film’s wild energy while cranking the dial to eleven. Just when you thought Happy Gilmore 2 couldn’t get any crazier, Slim Shady steps in to steal the show, leaving audiences questioning reality and begging for rewinds.

The film picks up with Happy Gilmore (Sandler) in his twilight years, still slinging clubs but now facing a new generation of rivals on the senior tour. Amidst the slapstick golf antics, family drama, and cameos from stars like Travis Kelce and Julie Bowen reprising her role as Virginia Venit, director Dennis Dugan weaves in meta-humor and over-the-top set pieces. But nothing prepares viewers for the third-act detour into pure madness, where Happy’s quest for redemption leads him to a Florida Everglades-style golf course infested with wildlife. Enter Eminem, playing a fictionalized version of himself as “Marshall Mathers,” a reclusive golf pro who’s been living off the grid after a “rap retirement” gone wrong.

The scene unfolds during a high-stakes tournament where Happy’s errant drive sends his ball into a swampy hazard. As he wades in to retrieve it, a gigantic crocodile emerges, jaws snapping. But before Happy can swing his club, Eminem bursts onto the scene—dressed in a ridiculous Hawaiian shirt and cargo shorts, microphone in hand like it’s a battle rap stage. “Yo, this ain’t your pond, croc!” Em yells, launching into an improvised freestyle diss track against the reptile. What follows is a three-minute frenzy of physical comedy: Eminem grapples with the beast, rolling in the mud, dodging tail swipes, and even attempting to “chokehold” its snout while spitting bars like “I’m the Slim Shady of the swamp, you just a leather bag waitin’ to be stomped!”

The crowd—both in the movie and real-life viewers—erupts as the fight escalates. Sandler, watching from the bank, cheers him on with lines like, “Get ‘im, Em! That’s for all the bad shots in life!” But true to the film’s irreverent spirit, things take a dark turn. The crocodile overpowers Eminem, dragging him underwater in a splash of CGI blood and bubbles. As bubbles surface with Em’s muffled screams—”Detroit what? Detroit nothing!”—the audience gasps, only for the tone to shift back to hilarity when the croc burps out Em’s chain necklace.

If that weren’t enough, the scene doesn’t end there. In a nod to the original Happy Gilmore‘s surreal ending—where Happy hallucinates his mentor Chubs Peterson (Carl Weathers) in the clouds alongside Abraham Lincoln and the one-handed alligator—the sequel ups the ante. As Happy sinks his winning putt later in the film, the sky parts, and Eminem reappears ethereal and glowing, floating next to a spectral figure revealed as his “dad” (a cameo by veteran actor Richard Jenkins, playing a fictionalized Bruce Mathers Sr., Eminem’s estranged real-life father). The two share a tender, awkward moment—dad teaching Em some “heavenly kung fu” moves—before turning their attention to Happy below.

With a mischievous grin, Eminem locks eyes with Gilmore and flips the bird one last time, a defiant farewell gesture that encapsulates the character’s rebellious spirit. “Peace out, Happy—keep swingin’!” he shouts, as his dad chuckles and joins in the flip-off. The clouds close, leaving Happy (and the audience) in stunned silence before bursting into laughter. It’s a moment that’s equal parts touching and transgressive, blending Eminem’s real-life persona—his complicated family history, his humor, and his unfiltered attitude—with the Happy Gilmore universe’s brand of feel-good anarchy.

Fans and critics alike have hailed the sequence as a highlight of the film, which has already amassed over 200 million viewing hours in its first week on Netflix. Social media is ablaze with reactions: “Eminem vs. croc in #HappyGilmore2 is the crossover we never knew we needed! That cloud flip-off? Legendary!” tweeted one user, while another posted a meme of Em in the heavens captioned, “When you get eaten but still own the afterlife.” Adam Sandler, in a promotional interview with Variety, revealed the cameo was a last-minute addition. “Em’s a fan of the original, and when we pitched him wrestling a gator like the Bob Barker fight, he was all in. The cloud bit? That was his idea—wanted to give a shoutout to his roots and keep it real.”

Eminem himself addressed the scene in a rare Instagram post: “Got ate by a croc for art. Worth it. #HappyGilmore2 #SlimShadyLives.” The outtakes, released as bonus content, show even more hilarity, with Em ad-libbing lines like “Come on, fake-ass dinosaur, you ain’t got a d—k!” during the fight, cracking up the crew. Director Dugan told Billboard, “We wanted to honor the original’s absurdity but make it bigger. Em brought that chaos—it’s peak comedy.”

Beyond the laughs, the scene touches on themes of legacy and farewell. Eminem’s reappearance in the clouds mirrors Chubs’ ghostly encouragement in the first film, symbolizing mentorship and moving on. The inclusion of “his dad” adds a layer of poignancy, given Eminem’s public struggles with his father, turning a comedic beat into something unexpectedly emotional. As Happy waves back, it’s a meta goodbye—not just to the character, but to the wild ride of the franchise.

Happy Gilmore 2 isn’t just a sequel; it’s a testament to Sandler’s enduring appeal and the power of unexpected cameos to elevate nostalgia. With Eminem’s unhinged performance stealing the spotlight, this crocodile-wrestling, heaven-flipping extravaganza proves that some things you truly have to see to believe. If you haven’t streamed it yet, click play—your sides will thank you, even if they ache from laughing.