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David Blaine: Drowned Alive

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Omar G: F | Grade It Now!
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David On David

David the Rug Rat lies on the floor. He monotones that he finally started losing weight when he learned some new breathing exercises. His coach, wearing a knit hat that makes him look like one of the more drugged-out Baldwin brothers, guides his in-and-out air moves. Blaine says that he'd breathe for a minute, then hold his breathe for five. Then he'd do it again but hold it six minutes. He says that he'd do that for an hour until he could hold his breath for forty-eight of the sixty minutes. He says that you can't focus on anything when you do that. We see him sputtering out breath and avoiding doing anything meaningful in life. Blaine the Pain says these breathing sessions would wipe him out so badly that he couldn't stand up. He says that he focused on magic to chase away the mental blues. Poor you, dickweed.

David the Street Rat, looking skinnier and with his face shaved, is on a New York street with some local teens. Oh, God, please let them stab him. Just a little bit. Right in his tattoo. Blaine asks one tall teen to think of a card. The boy does. David the Card Rat thinks about it for a second: "It was a red card." The kid's cell phone rings. And not with any kind of real ringtone, but with a generic phone ring. This ring's for us, and it's not real. David the Rat looks toward the camera like he's annoyed: "Who was that?" The poor kid tries to play it off and says that he'll find out later. "Ask them what the card was," Blaine tells him. This sounds like a trick I would do on the street, only it would end with me punching the kid in the neck. The teen glances at his cell phone and walks away laughing. "Are you kidding me?" he says. He shows his cell phone screen. It says a call came in from "9 of Diamonds." "OHMYGOD!" a girl nearby squeals. That's why we do it, fellas. I gotta write this one down. He does the same trick with another group, only it's the five of Hearts this time. Yeah, that's real street, Blaine.

Next trick. Card tricks on a little girl? Oh, you pathetic little worm. She picks a card, has her comb through a deck looking for it, does the old "Is this your (wrong) card?" and then drops it, and the card shatters as if it was encased in glass. Forget that it's the wrong card, the people on the street are impressed by broken glass. The crew must be impressed, too, because we see it again in slow motion. Oh, I tire of this "street magic." It's for poor people who can't afford a real show.

Back to the Bubble of Time Killing. Poor Stuart has to bring up the nine-minute world record for holding one's breath again, and then he goes to the audience where David the Rat's trainer is standing behind the guard rail. What, his trainer didn't get a backstage pass? He's the scary Baldwin brother-looking guy. Apparently he knows not only the secrets to mind, body, and soul, but also the secrets to David the Rat's metabolism. What do so much cheese and wainscoting crumbs do to someone? The trainer is asked how David the Rat lost fifty pounds. The trainer says that it was old-school: smaller meals, more trips to the gym, and lots and lots of watery shits. The trainer claims that the end product is "a slick looking body with a great engine." I think this guy has put his dipstick in the oil chamber, if you get my drift (and I think you do get my drift). Stuart is put in the uncomfortable position of also having to say that David the Rat has a great body. Why don't you go play with his degenerating body, then, Stuart?

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Mondo Extra
David Blaine: Drowned Alive

Episode Report Card
Grade It Now!
YOU GRADE IT
David On David

David the Rug Rat lies on the floor. He monotones that he finally started losing weight when he learned some new breathing exercises. His coach, wearing a knit hat that makes him look like one of the more drugged-out Baldwin brothers, guides his in-and-out air moves. Blaine says that he'd breathe for a minute, then hold his breathe for five. Then he'd do it again but hold it six minutes. He says that he'd do that for an hour until he could hold his breath for forty-eight of the sixty minutes. He says that you can't focus on anything when you do that. We see him sputtering out breath and avoiding doing anything meaningful in life. Blaine the Pain says these breathing sessions would wipe him out so badly that he couldn't stand up. He says that he focused on magic to chase away the mental blues. Poor you, dickweed.

David the Street Rat, looking skinnier and with his face shaved, is on a New York street with some local teens. Oh, God, please let them stab him. Just a little bit. Right in his tattoo. Blaine asks one tall teen to think of a card. The boy does. David the Card Rat thinks about it for a second: "It was a red card." The kid's cell phone rings. And not with any kind of real ringtone, but with a generic phone ring. This ring's for us, and it's not real. David the Rat looks toward the camera like he's annoyed: "Who was that?" The poor kid tries to play it off and says that he'll find out later. "Ask them what the card was," Blaine tells him. This sounds like a trick I would do on the street, only it would end with me punching the kid in the neck. The teen glances at his cell phone and walks away laughing. "Are you kidding me?" he says. He shows his cell phone screen. It says a call came in from "9 of Diamonds." "OHMYGOD!" a girl nearby squeals. That's why we do it, fellas. I gotta write this one down. He does the same trick with another group, only it's the five of Hearts this time. Yeah, that's real street, Blaine.

Next trick. Card tricks on a little girl? Oh, you pathetic little worm. She picks a card, has her comb through a deck looking for it, does the old "Is this your (wrong) card?" and then drops it, and the card shatters as if it was encased in glass. Forget that it's the wrong card, the people on the street are impressed by broken glass. The crew must be impressed, too, because we see it again in slow motion. Oh, I tire of this "street magic." It's for poor people who can't afford a real show.

Back to the Bubble of Time Killing. Poor Stuart has to bring up the nine-minute world record for holding one's breath again, and then he goes to the audience where David the Rat's trainer is standing behind the guard rail. What, his trainer didn't get a backstage pass? He's the scary Baldwin brother-looking guy. Apparently he knows not only the secrets to mind, body, and soul, but also the secrets to David the Rat's metabolism. What do so much cheese and wainscoting crumbs do to someone? The trainer is asked how David the Rat lost fifty pounds. The trainer says that it was old-school: smaller meals, more trips to the gym, and lots and lots of watery shits. The trainer claims that the end product is "a slick looking body with a great engine." I think this guy has put his dipstick in the oil chamber, if you get my drift (and I think you do get my drift). Stuart is put in the uncomfortable position of also having to say that David the Rat has a great body. Why don't you go play with his degenerating body, then, Stuart?

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