Original subtitles

Life... it's literally all we have.

But is it any good?

I'm a reviewer,

but I don't review

food, books, or movies.

I review life itself.

Over here.

Hello, and welcome to Review.

I am Forrest MacNeil,

and this is my cohost, A.J. Gibbs.

Life is a trip.

And this show is my passport.

A.J., where shall we go next?

Gina from Toluca Lake has a question.

Aha.

Forrest, I've often wondered,

what would it be like to kill a person?

Whoa.

"Whoa" is exactly right.

I want to choose my words

very carefully here.

Gina, I will do many things,

but to take a life is wrong beyond all reason.

As a man who reviews life,

I simply have too much respect for it to end one.

And so,

for the first time

in Review history,

I hereby enact the power... of the host veto.

Holy [bleep].

Thank you.

Are you certain you wish to veto this review?

Yes, I am.

Are you certain you wish to veto this review?

Yes, I am.

Are you certain you wish to veto this review?

Yes, I am.

You may veto this review.

Thank you, Grant.

A.J., shield your eyes.

Oh.

With solemn regard,

the first host veto of the season

is hereby dutifully cast by me, Forrest MacNeil,

being of sound mind.

Killing a Person:

vetoed.

Please destroy this...

and these.

That was exciting!

Okay, you only have one veto left.

Yes.

I have no doubt that that was totally necessary,

but I can tell you, it did not feel good.

All right, let's get on

to the better stuff that life has to offer.

A.J., what is my next review, please?

Your next question is from Erica.

"Disclaimer: I'm pretty high.

"But what would it be like to let a Magic 8 Ball

make all your decisions?"

Okay.

I guess she's talking about

the children's toy, the Magic 8 Ball.

Huh.

Living life by the Magic 8 Ball?

That... I will do.

You know what?

It might actually be fun.

Shall I explain how this is going to work?

"Yes." Okay.

For the rest of the day, every decision I have to make,

every question life throws at me,

I will run it by the Magic 8 Ball

and do what it tells me.

And in order to keep the rest of the world

in the dark about this rather odd practice,

I'm gonna keep the 8 Ball here in this fanny pack.

I don't want anyone to think I'm weird.

So...

shall I head out into the world?

"Most likely."

Very well then.

Should I use the men's room?

As I set out on this journey of chance,

the idea of giving up all of the day's

decision-making responsibilities

to this children's toy struck me as a relief...

Should I help pick this stuff up?

That would be great.

Though one with certain risks.

"No." Sorry.

Can I say hello to these two people?

Since 1950, the iconic Magic 8 Ball,

with its mysterious triangle afloat

in an inky blue nontoxic realm,

has provided advice and premonition

to those adrift in the inky blue,

often toxic, waters of life.

Can I cross the street?

These "ask again later"s are a real problem.

The more I embraced the randomness of life...

Shall I share my food with this hungry creature?

The more meaningful even the smallest decision seemed to be.

Should I chase after this squirrel?

And I had a lot of fun.

Where did... Okay.

Should I follow him up into the tree?

This is great!

But, of course, I wasn't happy

with all of the 8 Ball's decisions.

Shall I have a hot dog?

And it soon became clear

that this plastic ball also had the capacity

to complicate my family life.

It's Suzanne.

Okay, uh, can I answer this, please?

Despite many attempts to contact her,

I had not spoken with my ex-wife Suzanne

since I gave a toast at her rehearsal dinner,

that caused her to call off her wedding.

He is constantly sleeping with baseball groupie whores!

What? What is going on?

Yes. Yes!

Yes. Hello. Hi. Hi.

Hi, Forrest, I saw you called many times.

Yeah, hi. Hey, what's up? What's going on?

Were you calling to apologize for ruining my life again?

Uh...

Forrest?

Yeah, no, I... just a second.

Uh, "Better not tell you now."

Okay?

- "Better not tell me now"? - Yeah.

What does that even mean?

Uh...

Are you sorry or not?

Forrest.

Just a second. Just a second.

"Don't count on it."

Really?

All right, go [bleep] yourself.

- Stop calling me. - Wait, wait, wait, wait.

Ask me another question. Ask me a different question.

While I was ready to talk through

the issues Suzanne and I were experiencing,

it was clear that the Magic 8 Ball was not.

What?

With the Magic 8 Ball guiding my every move,

I ended up far outside the zip code

where I feel most comfortable.

Can I please call a cab to take me home?

And the worst was yet to come.

Hey! Hey, man. Hey, friend!

You have 20 bucks?

Do I want to give this man $20 to...

probably buy illegal drugs?

- All right. Here you go. - Thank you so much. Thank you.

Now can I please, please go home?

[bleep]. You're still 10 shy.

[bleep]. I just gave you a 20.

[bleep]. You gave me a 10.

Was that a 20, man?

I knew I had given him a 20.

I knew that all I had were 20s.

I could have easily settled this dispute.

But the 8 Ball had brought me

to this bizarre and troublesome place

and the 8 Ball would decide

what I did next.

"My reply is no."

Told you.

That was a 20, man!

- Guess I could ask... - [bleep].

Oh, no. Hey, hey, hey!

Oh, whoa. Oh, God.

Can I get out of here?

Can I please get out of here?

[bleep]. Oh, God!

Can I please get out of here?

Oh, God!

Please.

- Oh, my God. - [bleep].

You didn't see [bleep].

Oh, God.

Can I please get out of here?

Thanks to an incredible streak

of non-answers and negative answers,

I didn't go anywhere.

Can I please, please go somewhere safe?

When the police arrived,

they asked me a very important question.

A witness thought she saw

a guy running from this area.

You recognize this man?

How I longed to be of service to them.

"My reply is no."

All right, guys, turn him loose.

Thank you very much, sir, for your cooperation.

Arbitrarily made choices

could lead to inspired exhilaration

or aiding in the escape of a violent felon.

In the end, it's always better

to captain one's own ship on gut instinct.

If I crash into the rocks of life,

I want it to be because I steered the ship there myself.

Living your life by a Magic 8 Ball gets...

one star.

Our next review comes from Bill in Pasadena.

All righty.

Hey, Forrest.

I was raised with a good work ethic,

but a lot of the guys in my office

just screw around all day.

What's it like to procrastinate?

- Hmm. - Oh.

My friend has this Tumblr

of these panda bears falling out of trees.

I'll send you the link.

You will be lost on there for days.

I'm supposed to follow a link

- to a Tumblr? - Yeah.

That right there will take me most of an afternoon.

Okay, well, I'm off to procrastinate!

Oh, wow. Wait a minute.

Oh, I have a problem.

What's the problem?

The problem is,

my task here is to procrastinate.

Yes. Good luck!

Well, a procrastinator doesn't do his task.

Because to procrastinate is to not do your task.

You know what I mean?

So my task is to not do my task.

I think... it feels like there's an impossible logic flaw

at the heart of this question.

I don't know if I can do this.

Can I just say sometimes you're a little rigid on the rules?

- What's the problem? - Oh. I...

I don't think I can review procrastinating.

It's impossible.

I can't procrastinate procrastinating.

Because then I won't be procrastinating, right?

I'll be procrastinating.

That's the problem. Yeah.

I mean, this is like a classic

snake drawing his own hand.

It can't be done.

It can't be done. It can't be done.

I wish it could be done, but this... there's no way.

A.J.,

for the second

and final time this season,

I hereby enact the power of

the host veto.

Yes!

I mean...

Thank you, Grant.

Are you certain you wish to veto this review?

Yes, I am.

Are you certain you wish to veto this review?

Yes, I am.

Are you certain you wish to veto this review?

Yes, I am.

You may veto this review.

Thank you, Grant.

A.J., shield your eyes.

With solemn regard,

the second and final host veto of the season

is hereby been dutifully cast

by me, Forrest MacNeil, being of sound mind.

Procrastination:

vetoed.

Please destroy this...

and please preserve these for their historical value.

Okay.

With zero more vetoes left,

here is your next review.

Gina in Toluca Lake?

- Wait a minute. - Hi.

I did this once already,

but I don't see it in my sent folder,

so I'm not sure it went.

But anyway, my question is,

what it would be like to kill a person?

Wha... no.

I already vetoed... I vetoed that.

Technically, this is a new review.

Oh, my God.

Oh, my God.

You know, you could have just wasted some time

like a normal person.

Ah.

Yeah.

Moments after a viewer asked me to kill someone,

I was summoned to a meeting with my producer Grant

and Review's legal counsel.

There should've been three vetoes.

Yes. In retrospect, that is clear.

But alas.

Anyway, I just wanted to make our position very clear.

You should not commit a murder for the show.

Period.

I agree with that.

We don't care that it might have been ground-breaking,

award-winning television

that people might have talked about for years.

None of that matters.

We're talking about a human life.

That's... yeah. That's right.

It's a human life.

Even if that means fading into obscurity,

there is no one

whose life is so worthless

- that you should do this. - Yep.

Even if by not doing it,

eventually people go, "Oh, yeah,

"who was that guy back in the day, Frosty McNell?

He had a show where he barfed up pancakes?"

And if you did do this thing, you would be doing it

knowing that not only were you not told to by the show,

you were expressly told not to do it.

Oh.

Okay. Right.

- Good. - Yeah, okay.

Yeah. I got it. I get it.

So you're telling me

I have to do this.

No no no no no.

Not at all. Quite the opposite.

Absolutely not.

Don't do it.

Got it.

Okay, thank you, Forrest.

Yeah, no, thank you. Very good.

Is he gonna do it?

We have told him not to do it.

This was truly the most horrifying request

in two seasons as a reviewer of life.

- You wanted to see me? - Dad, yes.

As I grappled with the awful implications

of what I was being asked to do,

I turned for advice to my father.

I know that you served during Vietnam.

Yep, I... I sure did.

Yeah.

I need to know what it felt like.

I've never talked about this to anyone,

and with good reason.

I think I need to hear it, Dad.

I joined in 1970.

I enlisted with my friends,

Danny Alfaro and Jared Lenk.

But right when we started training,

I came down with a terrible case of diarrhea

they couldn't do anything about.

Uh-huh.

They didn't know if it was a viral thing

or an intestinal inflammation

or... I mean, they couldn't even keep me hydrated.

Okay, but then at some point, you, you know...

they shipped you out.

Yeah, they transferred me to a medical center in Oklahoma.

They had a whole team of doctors

trying to figure this thing out.

The diarrhea.

- Yeah. - Yeah.

And my paperwork got mucked up.

Uh-huh.

Spent the next 2 1/2 years

bouncing around in the hospital system.

Did you say you spent 2 1/2 years

just in the hospital in the United States?

- Studied transistor radios. - Uh-huh.

I learned to cook.

They made me an honorary nurse.

- Did they? - Yeah, 'cause I was around so much.

Okay, sorry, I just...

I didn't have anything else to do.

Got it. Look, I wanted to... I just wanted to...

I mean, you never killed anybody over there or anything?

As a nurse, you mean?

No, I mean, you know, in war.

Oh, God, no.

I have a lot of stuff to get to.

But you know, to this day...

Yeah?

I get the trots,

I go right back there.

Sure.

Sounds like that was a...

life-changing case of diarrhea there.

My father's input was equal parts

disgusting and unhelpful.

But I did eventually

think of someone I could kill.

I tracked down the young man

whose brutal beating I had witnessed

and learned that he was in a coma

with less than a 1% chance

of ever regaining consciousness.

This feels like...

the least bad way.

This is... I mean...

Yeah. Okay. All right.

[bleep] [bleep] [bleep] [bleep] [bleep].

No! No, no!

I can't do it. I can't do it.

I can't do it.

[bleep] that. No.

Nope.

I can't do it.

Oh, God.

But then I realized that I knew someone

who was much more deserving of my murder.

Ray, the man who administered

that horrible beating and got away with it,

arguably partly because of me,

was surely a man I could kill

with a somewhat softer pang of guilt.

Finding Ray turned out to be remarkably easy.

I'm looking for this man.

He sells drugs around here.

He was well-known throughout the neighborhood.

I've just come from Walmart

where I purchased a gun

and some ammunition

and several impulse purchases too.

I don't know.

Who can resist a $2 lawn chair?

Certainly not me.

This is where Ray lives.

And I'm gonna go in there

and I'm gonna do what I need to do...

with this gun.

And I'm very, very frightened.

I want you to keep a safe distance, okay?

Hey!

Oh.

I know you.

You're the guy from the other night

when the cops grabbed me.

- Yeah. - What are you doing here?

Nothing.

This is a miracle, man.

You are my [bleep] guardian angel, man.

I been thinkin' about you all the time.

You not ratting me out like that,

that was the best [bleep] thing

anyone has ever done for me in my whole [bleep] life.

It's like I got a real chance to start over.

I'm not gonna [bleep] it up.

I already enrolled to take the GED!

I'ma get sober.

I'ma be a drug counselor for teens.

In less than a minute, this monster,

who I had so easily condemned to death

had become a human to me.

This is my son.

His name is Eric.

I have a son named Eric.

A man with a future

and a right to go on living.

- Hi, Ray. - Ray Dunkelman.

Bring it in.

I knew I could not do it.

I could not kill Ray Dunkelman.

Yeah, Forrest!

It was a heartwarming moment.

And then Ray discovered something.

What the [bleep] is this?

- What do you mean? - Whoa, hey.

- What are you doing? - Are you wearing a wire?

It was simply the microphone

that records my audio for this show.

But Ray was not listening to explanations.

You bit me!

What the [bleep], Forrest?

Oh, my God. Oh, my God.

Oh, my God.

There should have been another veto.

There should have been another veto.

There should have been another veto.

Whoa. Forrest.

That was pretty intense.

Was it?

If, in fact, what you had just seen

had been the killing of one person

by another person,

then I suppose that other person

would have found the experience

to have been highly traumatizing,

resulting in a ceaseless barrage

of nightmares and daymares

that will probably haunt him or her

for the rest of his life.

Killing someone, therefore,

theoretically gets,

I'm assuming...

half a star.

Just so you know, the guy in the coma died too.

Oh, is that right?

- Yeah. - Okay.

Extra cheese!

Sync and corrections by explosiveskull www.addic7ed.com