I’ve dabbled in Stage magic since I was a kid. I know an impressive array of coin and card tricks, including some lifts, false cuts, and false shuffles which have interesting utility on poker night.
Some of the best tricks though are the simplest. Everybody loves my “Magic Nose.”
Give me a quarter, and with great fanfare and theatrics I will appear to shove the quarter entirely through my nostril and into my nose.
Ta-da! The coin has disapeared.
Later, I will grab a tissue, and appear to blow my nose violently, sending the quarter flying across the room at great force amidst a cloud of snot.
Kids love it! Adults are bewildered! Nobody’s really grossed out because they know it’s a trick.
The trick itself is the essence of simplicity and misdirection.
You see, I really do shove the quarter up my nostril. My exagerated technique makes it look fake, but it’s not. I shove that bad boy up there in front of all kinds of people who watch, amused at my pantomime of gross behavior. “HA HA!!” I think. Little do they know, it’s real!
The truth is I could be a superhero. God has gifted me with a left nostril, of exactly the proper caliber to recieve a quarter. I just stretch it past the opening and lodge it up there airtight (with the help of some snot.) It’s up there a good half inch, so there’s no way to see it.
I have strong lungs, and I can propel the projectile from my nostril with astounding force. Of course, I “fake” this as well.
All in all it’s a hell of a trick. You have to be willing to shove a quarter way the hell up your nose to do it though, but such is the price of fame.
Then, one day, as usual, disaster struck.
I started the trick, everybody giggled and ooohed and ahhhed and went “grosss!” as I “pretended” to shove the quarter up my nostril.
The finale however, backfired. The projectile became jammed in the muzzle (if you’ll pardon the pun.)
I was in immediate and intense pain. Fortunately I was able to maintain the illusion by giving the appearance of being in immediate and intense pain.
Everybody laughed and applauded as I thrashed about the room sputtering “Oh God No! It’s Really Stuck! Oh Jeezus! Ahhhhh!” It was actually the best performance ever, the irony of course being that my comic agony was absolutely 100% authentic.
I gathered myself together enough to smile weakly, bow and beat a hasty retreat, with none the wiser.
Still in agony I got in my car. After repeated attempts to build up enough nasal force to expel the obstacle it soon became clear that it wasn’t getting out without help.
Fortunately, it was at that precise moment that I recalled the legendary story of my good friend Dr. Patel OB/GYN (name changed to protect the innocent,) wherein he extricated a Titelist DT 90 from the vagina of an adventurous but elderly woman. Later, that day (or so the legend goes,) he broke par with that very ball.
“He’ll know what to do, and he’ll protect my secret!” I thought. After all, I had all kinds of dirt on my Dr. friend.
I drove to his office, and with tears in my eyes I staggered across the full waiting room, pounded on the reception window, and demanded to see Dr. Patel.
“He’s with patients,” answered the reception nurse cooly. “What is this regarding?”
“IZZA Fogging Medigal Emergessy!!” I proclaimed nasally. “Gemme Padel NOWWW!”
“Are you a patient?” she replied coolly.
“NOWWWWWW!!!” I roared (usually I’m polite.) I had the attention of everyone in the practice.
She considered, then nodded.
In the consult room, I sat miserably between the stirrups.
“This really isn’t my specialty. I don’t think I should do this. I don’t know anything about noses,” Dr. Patel hedged.
I had to be at my most persuasive.
“Izza fogging hole,” I said. “Whazza difference? Yew Poooed a guff ball oudda a boontang. Jus’ do iss for me. Whazza big fogging deal? I dought you was my fend? Hep me, youzza fogging dogtor for chrizzakes,” I pleaded with utmost sincerity
“Alright,” he said. “i’ll try it, but don’t go crying malpractice if it doesn’t work, OK?”
“Otay,” I said.
“Lie back and put your feet in the stirrups.”
“Berry funny. Jus’ ged it oudda by dose.”
I lied back.
“Allright, I’ll need this, and this, and probably one of these.” I heard him say. “This might work, too.”
He returned holding a giant speculum over my face.
“Whaddda fug you think you gonna do wizzat?!?” I almost screamed.
“Don’t worry, I’ll warm it with my hands first.”
I scrambled to get up.
“just kidding,” he said.
“Nod funny.”
He grabbed some Dr. tool shined a light, and neatly plucked the quarter from my nostril, neat as could be.
“Oh thank you,” I breathed. After the initial yank, it was all blissful relief.
“That was easy enough,” he said. “Pretty small, but I felt on firm ground. Just another moist hairy hole, after all.”
“Your a hero,” I stated.
“I’m wondering if I can legitimately charge a man for an office visit.”
“Maybe we’d best keep it under the table,” I replied.
“That might be best,” he conceded.
“Here,” I said, and tossed him the quarter. “That should do.”
