There were plenty of ways to keep my adult brain occupied, however. For example, although the show itself was clearly G-rated, the background music was amusingly unedited. The first time I caught some indie rocker (whatever the kids are listening to these days) drop an F-bomb over the sound system, I glanced around to see if any worried mothers were hurriedly clapping their hands over their offspring’s ears. Fortunately for those ever-vigilant parents, only the high school class a few rows in front of me seemed to notice (those teenagers never miss anything).
As the show continued, I started playing a game I like to call “Whatever, Hotshot, That Doesn’t Look So Hard,” where I attempt to prove that even a degenerate like myself could be a professional magician. The game really heated up during a trick in which Lake brought up five adults from the audience for a round of magic Pictionary. The idea was to have each person draw the first thing that popped into his or her head and then, after the pictures were all shuffled up, Lake would match them back to their respective owners.
“This is easy,” I thought. “I’m sure with my ample supply of street smarts (read: blatant stereotyping) I can pick out who drew what faster than some magician.”
Plus, for the last two drawings you don’t even have to do
anything, just give them each a picture and if they look confused tell them to
swap. And guess what? I was 5 for 5 and feeling pretty good about my magical
abilities.
Then Rob Lake sawed a woman in half.
How the hell does he do that, anyway?
—Brian
