The Magic of Me!

by admin April 16, 2001
Copperfield! Tornado Of Fire

In the next bit of magic, I introduce our live feed from Hawaii and ask some folks from the audience to participate. By throwing a floppy Frisbee in the audience, I find Andy, a woman who likes volleyball. (Hey, who doesn't?) I ask her to draw herself playing volleyball (naked, I hope) on an oversized postcard. She draws a stick figure and a ball. I make fun of her: "That's not volleyball. That's The Blair Witch Project." Oh, but I kid the yokels. I find an obviously planted kid actor in the audience named Jacob. Jacob the little bastard cherub (trust me, he's a nightmare to work with) is assigned the task of standing by the propped-up postcard and making sure nobody touches it. A true recipe for mischief, I know.

I leave that trick behind to start a new one: I bring up two very Aryan-looking guys who I call "Uncle Morty and Aunt Ida" to the stage. One of them's a plant. The other one's not. Ain't I a devil? I have them strapped to a couch and, damn! Look at that! I have made a couch levitate! I even manage to give them airline bags of peanuts, and then crack up the audience with jokes about the two men holding their nuts. I'm a family magician, with just a hint of naughty. Somebody spank me, please. The guy on the left makes little hand gestures under the blanket so I can joke, "What are you doing under there?" Okay, have you guessed which one is the plant yet? The two men levitate on the couch, which is an exact dramatization of what stoners feel like when they watch 2001 on DVD while baked. I encase the men in glass, along with the couch, just to make them feel trapped while I hit on their girlfriends. I make them levitate inside the glass case, because I'm that good. The audience applauds wildly. I bow. Life is good, even without Claudia.

When that trick is over, I look over to find the little devil child Jacob shirking his responsibilities as postcard guard. I give him a stern look, and he looks guilty and cherubic at the same time. That's why I don't have kids. I'd saw them in half.

Right before another commercial, I show my now-famous "magic in the street" (take that, David Blaine, you prick) by floating some people into the air on my magic couch in broad daylight.. They scream and bleep-cuss. And when I ask if they want to go again and they say no, I shoot them up into the air anyway. Call it my hatred of humanity.

Back from commercial, and it's time for me to do my Mr. Wizard impression: I introduce a glass of water in a crystal glass and announce that this trick can be performed at home. (It's actually vodka in the glass, but nobody has to know that.) I make the glass sing by rubbing around the edge, take some water out, and do it again at a higher pitch, but oh, amusement of amusements: -- some Asian guy comes into the frame, revealing that it's him singing a falsetto, not the glass. Oh, I kid the eunuchs. But then I show off the real trick: I take a moon rock and pass it around the now-cloth-covered glass. I simulate low tide (empty glass), high tide (full glass) and life (goldfish coming out of my hand). On my next CBS special, I'll be doing card tricks for the viewers at home. Stay tuned.

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The Magic of Me!

by admin April 16, 2001
Copperfield! Tornado Of Fire 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.

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