Before going to commercial, I show some very obviously doctored shots of doing the same trick outside for some people on the street, and people screaming and kids running away. That's how I get my jollies these days now that Claudia is gone. I go outside with my half-torso and scare children in public. Notice, the people are never in the same shot with me. That's because they're not blue-screened. But I digress. To a commercial, in fact. But before that, I show off some "Test Footage" where a tiny fire burns my pants up and it takes about five minutes for anyone to come and put my fire out. That's why I went to the hospital for "exhaustion." It had nothing to do with "publicity" or "ratings" or "David Blaine." I was exhausted, folks. And I'd been put on fire. End of discussion.
After the commercial, I come back with the most eagerly anticipated trick the magic community has ever seen. In fact, this is the trick that magicians have been trying to perfect for 75 years, almost since girdles started going out of style. I call it "Prelude to Poontang." But, to audiences, I refer to it as "The Panty Switch." I start by asking the Memphis folks how many people are wearing white underwear. Then I ask how many are wearing colored underwear. Then I make a joke about those who didn't raise their hands. I'm tempted to ask, "How many of you can't afford underwear?" But CBS strikes again; they didn't like my "tone." I pluck two very attractive women from the audience for the trick as Sisqo's "Thong Song" plays. I know what you're thinking: "David Copperfield? Using two attractive women from the audience? No! Not David!" Yeah, I hear that thought. And you know what? Why don't you mind your fucking business. Jessica, who is wearing white underwear, and "Silinda," who is wearing red (really, the only way I remember women's names anymore is by their underwear) stand on platforms as the audience hoots and I look all horny. It's brilliant, I tell you. Now, I've always been a perv, but looking at this again, I have to say I've added a bit of the cheeseball into my performance mix. That's okay. It still works.
The women write labels for the underwear, which I have them put inside the top of their underwear rears. I laugh a lot during this and make cheesy faces, and if I were gay, it would be cute, but I acknowledge that coming from a man like me, it can look a little scary. As a song by The Doors plays, I start transferring the panties back and forth via a small black cloth. The white underwear bobs and appears playfully and I even threaten a woman in the audience with it. Usually it's my underwear I threaten women with, but this seems to work better on stage. I transfer the panties back and forth like I'm in a French farce, and at one point the red panties caress my ear. I make no mention in all of this about the possibility of panty-transferred bacteria, disease, or infection. It's more fun that way. The trick ends with the women walking off, each wearing another woman's panties, which must be a downer for them, but no matter. I invite the audience to switch underwear and then tell them to reach in each other's pants. Because by this point, I just don't give a damn. "They used to do it in the White House!" I yell, because topical political humor is just one of my many talents. Lord, you should take me from this Earth, because I'm just too good for it. Seriously.