Loads of Fun...
Teller sat backstage, nervously peeling paint off of a metal pole that ran up along the wall. Just ten minutes before they were supposed to be on stage, Penn finally walked through the buffer doors.
“Ready, Teller?” he whispered.
Teller nodded. He watched one of the new players - Jon, he thought was his name - play a film critic on a fake television show. He tried to imagine that this run was just like the one before, but he couldn’t ignore the fact that the cameras were recording this time. This was for real. A screw-up off-Broadway was easily forgotten. A screw-up in front of umpteen skadillions on national television could be career suicide; especially when one’s career is only just getting started.
“Hey,” Penn said, putting his hand on his partner’s shoulder. “This is gonna be fun,” he assured. “You fixed the problem a long time ago. Don’t worry.”
Teller inhaled deeply. Penn was vamped; he was ready. He had a way of making it all just seem like a fun game.
Jon’s sketch ended and the show cut to commercial. In a mad rush, the crew scurried out to change the set. Penn & Teller didn’t get any special backdrop for their segment, so this was the first time either of them had seen the beige flats that would stand behind them. For all they knew, the flats were just a generic guest background; neither of them had watched the show with any regularity at all. Friday nights off were rare.
The show’s announcer quickly informed the crew from his booth that the show was coming out of commercial. This was show-time. Someone on the floor counted down from five, cueing the disembodied voice to announce Penn & Teller. In their excitement, they jumped their cue slightly, entering a few beats early.
“Good evening,” Penn said to Camera One. “My name is Penn Jillette, and this is my partner, Teller. When an NBC talent scout recommended us for this show, he said we should do a card trick. But the thing about card tricks is that they’re lousy for television. We can see the trick, and the people in the first few rows can kinda see the trick, but you people up in the balcony and the cameras can’t really see it at all.”
Teller nodded and walked off stage. Without missing a beat, Penn continued.
“We’re gonna give you something to look at real soon, but first, I need somebody to come up here with me…”
While Penn looked around the first few rows for a suitable victim, Teller rushed over to Bill - their Director of Covert Activities -- and climbed up into the tank. He quickly submerged himself, taking a moment to tap on one of the joins Sameth had fixed before resurfacing. Bill handed him his SCUBA mask from his perch on the ladder, and as Teller situated himself, Bill pulled the lock from his pocket.
“Penn told me about the new change,” Bill confirmed.
Teller nodded. He dunked himself back under the water and let Bill lock the lid shut. The SCUBA regulator was passed down through the bars, and as Teller put it in his mouth, Bill stepped in front of the tank to wait for Teller’s signal. Teller checked himself out, not noticing anything out of the ordinary. Just as he got ready to give the signal, he noticed a small problem. A problem that hadn’t been there a few hours earlier. He raised his left hand, debating between which signal he could give. The problem was small, and Penn had already gone on.
After another moment’s hesitation, Teller gave the international SCUBA divers’ code for “Okay,” and Bill handed him the dummy key and prepared to wheel the tank out. The victims had been chosen, and the premise of a television magic trick explained, so Bill took his cue and wheeled the large tank out to the stage. Even through the water and glass, Teller could hear the eruption of laughter. He couldn’t help but smiling just a little. Penn saw, even behind the mask, and giggled a little bit.
Through the bit, Teller paid little attention to Penn, and kept his eye on his secret problem. It seemed to have been doing fine. Two minutes in, and no problems. He went on as rehearsed, sinking to the bottom of the tank to keep Penn from getting the key. He’d be fine. He was confident enough that he thrashed about as planned when it came time for Penn to ignore him, but he soon realized that the thrashing had agitated his secret problem. He quickly stopped and went as still as possible to avoid making the problem any worse. He quickly threw the key into the audience and turned around. Now, with no way to look at Penn, he had no idea how much longer in the trick. He could no longer hear Penn’s shouting over the audience’s roaring laughter. All Teller could hear was the pounding of his own heart in his ears. He begged to himself that Penn wasn’t being his regular funny self. Laughs took time, and Teller soon realised that time was not something he had. With every passing second, his secret problem grew worse and worse. He knew that now, there must not have been much time left in the trick. He didn’t want to give the secret signal just before Penn made the reveal, but on the same token, he had no idea when Penn would make the reveal. He decided that he would slowly count down from ten, and if the reveal had not come, he’d make the signal. Slowly, he went down to one, trying to time his counting as best he could with his contracting lungs. Just as he got to “one” in his mind, he felt Penn grab his hand and turn him around. There was supposed to be laughter right now, but Teller didn’t hear it. All he heard was the blood rush in his ears.
He didn’t see Bill rush out from the wings to unlock him. As Bill stuck the key into the lock, Penn returned to address the audience once more. Bill pushed the lid open, allowing Teller to climb out. As soon as Teller grabbed on to the edge of the tank, Bill knew something wasn’t right. Teller’s face was almost purple and he was having a harder time holding on to the edge of the tank than when they had first started working on the illusion. Bill climbed up on the ladder brought out by one of the techies and took Teller’s hand, holding him above the surface.
“What happened?” Bill asked.
Penn turned around to look at Teller in time to see his partner whispering something at Bill. Teller never talked to Bill. Things had blown up - sometimes literally -- at the shop, and Teller still didn’t talk to Bill. Penn waited for the cameras to shut off before walking back to his partner.
“What happened?” he asked.
Teller was still panting, but now he felt like he was going to vomit on top of it.
“The mask failed big time,” Bill said as the curtains fell.
In front of the curtain, Penn heard the show’s host announce the musical guest. He and Bill helped Teller down from the tank. As soon as Teller’s feet hit the floor, he staggered off back to the wings. Penn gave a worried look to Bill before following his partner back off stage.
“Man, what happened?” he asked.
Teller leaned against one of the prop tables and threw the mask down in front of him. Penn picked it up and looked at it.
“Jesus Christ,” he said gravely, noticing Teller’s secret problem at once. He opened his mouth to ask how it had happened, but as soon as he found the words, he knew exactly what had happened. “Sonofabitch,” he muttered.
Teller either didn’t hear, or didn’t care. Plotting something evil, Penn reached into his trousers pocket and pulled out a small key ring.
“Do you think you’ll be alright to drive?” he asked.
After a moment, Teller nodded. Penn handed him the keys, closing Teller’s hand around them.
“I heard that actress-friend of yours needs a ride home,” he said. “Go be a gentleman, and I’ll take care of this problem,” he said, motioning to the mask.
Teller nodded, and after a few seconds, began to get undressed so he could dry off.