Review with Forrest Macneil (2014) s02e01 Episode Script
Brawl, Blackmail, Gloryhole
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.
Whatever life experience you're curious about, I will do it, and then I will review it.
I'm Forrest MacNeil, back for more life, and how exciting to be reunited with the world's greatest review assignment reader, A.
J.
Gibbs.
Hello, Forrest.
- Welcome back.
- Thank you, A.
J.
Now let's face it, our first season was not easy on me.
- I will end you! - Oh! You killed my father in outer space? - Oh! - Jack! What's it like to get a divorce? You are gonna die alone, so get out of here.
When the season was over, I spent some time lost in the wilderness, despairing over what seemed to be the pointless destruction of my life.
Why? But then I read the inspiring letters, tweets, and emails from my viewers, and I saw that this show gives meaning to my life and yours.
The destruction of my life was anything but pointless.
Now, in order to ensure that my life doesn't go to hell again as I live on your behalf, I will now be permitted to veto two reviews here in our Veto Booth.
Now, without any further ado, let us find out the first review of season two.
Do, do-do-do Do, do-do-do.
Yes.
Our very first review comes from Colleen in Eugene, Oregon.
Hi, Forrest.
I'm at a Zen retreat right now.
What's it like to get into a bare-knuckle brawl? A bare-knuckle brawl? Wow.
Yeah.
You want to dodge this one, Forrest? Is it veto time already? No.
No, thank you, A.
J.
Life has knocked me down, and I'm ready to get back up and fight.
After the difficulties of last season, I moved into my boyhood home with my lonely father, a perfect place to embark on this review, since the last time I lived here, I was of an age when conflicts were often settled with fisticuffs.
Now this young man, me, had absolutely no interest in fighting at all.
I opted to avoid such confrontations either by running away or changing schools.
As a matter of fact, slugging my producer, Grant, at the end of last season is the first punch I've ever thrown.
Oh! And I have a feeling my second punch is not too far off.
I'll call you if I need a ride home, all right? I'll come and get you, and don't slam the door.
I didn't.
I set out to find someone to whom I could serve one or both of my knuckle sandwiches, but everywhere I went, perfectly decent people were going about their lives, failing to provoke a righteous pummeling.
Aha.
Well, this man just cut me in line for the ATM.
Now I have a reason to start a bare-knuckle brawl.
Ahem.
Excuse me.
- I was next for that ATM.
- Just-- Oh! Wow, wow.
That really hurts.
That's something I had not considered, how much it hurts me to punch somebody.
Obviously it hurts when you're getting punched, but-- Ah! Oh! Oh.
Yeah, I just shot somebody.
- Why? - I don't know.
I got scared, okay? Just shut up for a minute.
Let me think, Mom.
Yes, it happened again, okay? Forrest? You getting this? Forrest? Having been shot three times with a gun, I underwent emergency surgery to save my life.
The extreme blood loss caused me to slip into a coma, which I can only describe as restful.
Review footage allows me to appreciate that I received many visitors in my unconscious state, including my producer, Grant, and my executive assistant, Lucille, who struggled to put their concern into words.
What if we, like, put a pillow on his face and pretended we were smothering him? I mean, we would be smothering him, but we'd take the pillow off, obviously.
Would he fight for life? My intern, Josh, stopped by with his new girlfriend, Tina.
They behaved regrettably during their visit.
I was touched to see that even my estranged ex-wife stopped by, and despite the presence of this show's cameras, almost entered my room.
But most frequently by my side were my father and my nurse, Marisa, who was holding my hand when I miraculously emerged from two months in a coma.
Excuse me, I was next for that ATM.
- Bicycle.
- Very good.
Marisa stayed by my side down the long road to recovery.
Conspiracy.
Bridge.
And I'm happy to say that we struck up a bit of a romance.
That's good.
Learning to walk again was one of the greatest challenges of my life, but Marisa's cheerful, nurturing presence gave me something to walk toward.
There you are.
Over time, we shared our fears and struggles, and I vowed to get strong enough to hold Marisa up as she now held me, or as she put it one day during therapy I heal you, you heal me.
- Thank you.
- I'm so proud of you.
- God, Forrest, you almost died.
- Yes.
Are you starting to think that maybe you should have stayed in hiding and not come back to Review? Quite the opposite, A.
J.
A near-death experience has a way of focusing the mind on what's really important in life, and I feel more certain than ever before that what's important in my life is this work.
Wow.
And I certainly didn't think that my fists would lead me to a new girlfriend.
So allow me to weigh the good and the bad things that come from a bare-knuckle brawl and give it a very balanced 2 1/2 stars.
This next one is an email from Ahmed in East Lansing, Michigan.
- East Lansing? - Can you believe it? Yes.
- Blackmail? - Blackmail.
My goodness.
Wow.
Okay, well, uh, it looks like I am about to enter the rather shady world of using people's secrets against them.
Here I go.
And then I'd just be like, "Listen, you put $500 million in the garbage can, "or Mr.
MacNeil's gonna tell the whole world about you, you pervert.
" - Yes.
Okay.
- Yeah.
So what dirt do you have on Queen Elizabeth? I mean I don't-- I don't really have anything.
My staff and I scoured the Internet for damaging information about prominent public figures, but we came up empty.
I realized I would need to capitalize on secrets I already possessed.
Lucille, two weeks ago Friday, I saw you out canoodling with a man, not your boyfriend, Gordon.
Really thin guy in a baggy pair of jeans? Yeah.
That was him.
It would really be a shame if Gordon were to find out about that.
It was Gordon.
He just had lap band surgery.
- Are you serious? - Yeah.
Well, he looks great.
That night, my darling Marisa slept peacefully in my childhood bed, but my concern over this review made sleep impossible and a few extra painkillers necessary.
It was then that I realized I did know someone with a damaging secret.
Marisa had a habit of helping herself to her patients' leftover pills.
No amount of painkillers could anesthetize me from what I would have to do next.
My cousin Dede just got back from the Terranea Resort.
She said it's gorgeous.
We should go there sometime.
She said that they do couples massages, but they come to your room, which means your room has to be big - Yes.
- To fit two whole massage tables.
Yes.
Honey, I What are you doing? This bottle of Percocet is made out to Edith Reinhardt.
Uh, sweetheart are you Edith Reinhardt? Am I--no.
I'm--no.
No.
Neither am I.
This bottle of generic OxyContin is made out to Acquanetta Hamilton.
Are you Acquanetta Hamilton? I'm--what are you doing? Neither am I.
You and I aren't any of these people because you stole these pills.
Okay.
Those people are dead now.
So they're just going to be thrown away, and it's wasteful.
If you don't give me $500 a week for the next six months, I'm gonna show, uh, all these to your boss.
Why would you do that? You're being blackmailed.
I'm be-- Yeah.
Okay.
- I'm being blackmailed? - You're being blackmailed.
Yeah.
You--you did something wrong, and you're going to have to pay-- No, I understand the concept of blackmail.
- Okay.
- What is wrong with you? Thank you.
Thank you very much.
Do you need money? Are you in, like, trouble or something? I'm gonna write you a check, okay? - You are? - For $1,000, yes.
But can you please put the pills away? Marisa seemed to feel that writing this check would put an end to the matter, and her misunderstanding allowed us to move on for now.
I counted this $1,000 as payment for the first and second weeks.
With the storm cloud of extortion comfortably in the distance, Marisa and I fell deeper and deeper in love.
But when the third week came and Marisa didn't pay, I carefully chose a good time to remind her of our arrangement.
Oh, by the way I do need that $500 by 10:00 tomorrow night, or I'm gonna just have to tell your boss about the stolen pills.
Sorry, sorry, sorry.
Why would you do that to me, you asshole? Okay, okay, well, maybe the real question is why would you steal narcotics, right? You took some of those pills, Forrest.
Okay, okay.
All right.
You benefitted from those pills.
Let's just drop it.
$500 by 10:00 tomorrow and now let's just cuddle, okay? - No.
- I call--I call inside spoon.
You can't blackmail me and then try to be the inside spoon! Marisa was not spooning, inside or out.
Our relationship was in trouble, and it was blackmail's fault.
I did what I could to be there for Marisa, indeed, spending much of the blackmail money she paid me to buy a couples massage package at the Terranea Resort.
But my numerous calls to invite her went unanswered.
Hi.
I hadn't heard from you, and I was just really worried.
That's because you're blackmailing me, Forrest.
You know that doesn't keep me from missing you, right? Forrest, this is the worst thing anyone has ever done to me.
Do you get that? What happened to "I heal you, you heal me"? Nothing has happened to that.
Just this--this is also happening to both-- - Doesn't make any sense.
- Hey, wait, wait, wait, wait.
- I got you--no.
- I don't want them.
Marisa, just tell me what I can do.
You could stop blackmailing me, you douchebag.
Oh, come-- Marisa, sweetheart, uh, I need this week's payment.
Are you kidding me? Our relationship was falling apart, and I was heartbroken.
I'm leaving the flowers on your doorstep, okay? Those are yours.
- flowers.
- Ow.
But Marisa's choice to not pay me left me with no choice.
Oh.
Just wanted to stop by and just let you know what a wonderful nurse Marisa is.
She's just a devoted, committed nurse.
That's good.
You know, I just also wanted to add sometimes she would even, uh, swipe pills from other patients to give to me.
Above and beyond the call of duty, and those are some of those pills.
- Swipe pills? - Yeah, mm-hmm.
Yeah, so just wanted to let you know that you've got a real superstar of a nurse on your hands.
There's nothing bad about her.
There's nothing bad.
I hoped that by emphasizing Marisa's assets rather than her felonies, I could secure the minimum punishment.
Maybe the two would even cancel each other out.
Sadly, that evening, I learned that was not the case.
Forrest! - Is that Marisa? - Forrest! - That is Marisa.
- Get over here! - Marisa, are you okay? - You told her! - I know.
- You told my boss! I know, I know.
I'm really sorry.
- I'm really sorry.
- I lost my job.
- Oh, God.
- I lost my job! I will never work as a nurse again! What am I going to do? I really did not want that to happen.
Why did you force my hand like that? - I forced you? - I mean, I really had no-- You did.
I mean, I asked you so many times.
I could go to jail, you head.
Okay, listen, I hope you don't go to jail.
I really do, but if you did, I would visit you every single day.
I don't care if you visit me.
I was in love with you.
What do you mean you were in lo-- I'm still in love with you.
Nothing's changed.
I'm not in love with you anymore.
You blackmailed me.
Oh, wow.
I know.
And sometimes that's what blackmail is.
- It hurts the people you love.
- No.
- And it's really bad.
- No, no.
It's really, really bad.
- You hurt me - Whoa, hey, hey, hey, hey, hey.
- And I hurt you.
- Oh, God! Whoa! Oh, God! Oh! Oh, my God.
- Da--oh, are you all right? - Yeah, she shot the ceiling.
Oh, my God, she was gonna shoot me.
Blackmail requires a callousness not suited to the average man.
Put it down! You're pointing it at yourself! It may have made me extra money, but it made my life immeasurably poorer.
Eat a bag of shit! I hate you.
In trying to do this review justice, I somehow brought disaster to the life of someone I love.
Ruined my life! I'm deeply saddened to lose my sweet Marisa.
Blackmail is bad.
Whew.
This review is tweeted to us by @JustinMFR.
- Aha.
- He writes I guess, uh, I guess I'm off to seek glory.
- In a hole.
- Yes.
Good.
Okay.
There are two types of holes in the world, those that promise glory and those that do not.
And though I'd never considered the question before, it was no simple task to distinguish one from the other.
Excuse me, is this a glory hole? That's a family hole.
Do you know if there's anything on the Internet about where to find anonymous sex? I think pretty much the whole Internet is for that.
That has not been my experience with the Internet, but I'm looking for a glory hole, in particular.
Oh, if you're looking for a glory hole, you should just go to, like, a seedy gay bar.
Okay.
That is quite possibly the least helpful suggestion you could ever have made.
I mean, why would a woman give anonymous oral sex at a gay bar? I'll look online.
Josh and the Internet came through, locating a long list of active glory holes in my area.
There were a lot of lonely ladies and a lot of glory holes in this city.
I headed to the one closest to my dad's house.
Well, here it is.
I must say, the idea of placing my member into this hole to be pleasured by some mystery woman has me excited, yes, but also pretty nervous.
Here we go.
So far, uh nothing to report.
Oh, sorry.
Just using the glory hole.
I had arrived a bit early, but once the sun went down and the park was officially closed, the glory hole was officially open.
The name was right.
It was glorious.
The woman behind that stall had a talent well beyond anything I had ever experienced Oh, wow.
Oh, wow.
Well beyond anything my ex-wife had demonstrated on any of my birthdays.
Wow.
I returned the next night and the night after that, and on each occasion, the glory was equally glorious.
There was etiquette to consider Whoa, excuse me.
- I'm next for the glory hole.
- Hey, man.
But in general, I found no downside to the glory hole.
Myself and the other men enjoying this woman's talents were experiencing sexual intimacy at its best.
I was completely satisfied without having to cater to my partner's pleasure.
I knew it would be a violation of the spirit of the glory hole to meet the generous woman on the other side of that partition, but wasn't it equally unforgivable to let the chance to meet her pass? Yes, it was.
Oh, I'm sorry.
The woman who was just in here, did you see where she went? No.
I began spending all my spare time in the park searching for my mystery mouth.
And then, it happened.
- Hey there.
- Hi.
I've been seeing you here a bunch lately.
It's funny.
Yeah.
I'm Forrest.
- I'm Lynn.
- Her name was Lynn.
She was a PhD student and exactly the sort of sweet-natured person who, it seemed to me, would selflessly pleasure strange men through the partition of a bathroom stall.
Hey, I got a crazy question for you.
Hmm? Are you the woman in the glory hole? I have been putting my erect penis in that hole for the past week, and I just thought I recognized you.
Wait, hang on.
Was she the wrong woman, or was she indeed the maven of the stall? I would never know.
In most relationships, there is a wall of some sort keeping two people from truly seeing each other.
A glory hole makes that wall literal, but it doesn't make the experience any less meaningful.
Glory holes, You never did find the woman behind that glory hole, did you, Forrest? Sadly, no, I did not.
I have a feeling you never will.
That's all the time we have for my first episode back.
It feels great to be here.
Please join us next time on Review.
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.
Whatever life experience you're curious about, I will do it, and then I will review it.
I'm Forrest MacNeil, back for more life, and how exciting to be reunited with the world's greatest review assignment reader, A.
J.
Gibbs.
Hello, Forrest.
- Welcome back.
- Thank you, A.
J.
Now let's face it, our first season was not easy on me.
- I will end you! - Oh! You killed my father in outer space? - Oh! - Jack! What's it like to get a divorce? You are gonna die alone, so get out of here.
When the season was over, I spent some time lost in the wilderness, despairing over what seemed to be the pointless destruction of my life.
Why? But then I read the inspiring letters, tweets, and emails from my viewers, and I saw that this show gives meaning to my life and yours.
The destruction of my life was anything but pointless.
Now, in order to ensure that my life doesn't go to hell again as I live on your behalf, I will now be permitted to veto two reviews here in our Veto Booth.
Now, without any further ado, let us find out the first review of season two.
Do, do-do-do Do, do-do-do.
Yes.
Our very first review comes from Colleen in Eugene, Oregon.
Hi, Forrest.
I'm at a Zen retreat right now.
What's it like to get into a bare-knuckle brawl? A bare-knuckle brawl? Wow.
Yeah.
You want to dodge this one, Forrest? Is it veto time already? No.
No, thank you, A.
J.
Life has knocked me down, and I'm ready to get back up and fight.
After the difficulties of last season, I moved into my boyhood home with my lonely father, a perfect place to embark on this review, since the last time I lived here, I was of an age when conflicts were often settled with fisticuffs.
Now this young man, me, had absolutely no interest in fighting at all.
I opted to avoid such confrontations either by running away or changing schools.
As a matter of fact, slugging my producer, Grant, at the end of last season is the first punch I've ever thrown.
Oh! And I have a feeling my second punch is not too far off.
I'll call you if I need a ride home, all right? I'll come and get you, and don't slam the door.
I didn't.
I set out to find someone to whom I could serve one or both of my knuckle sandwiches, but everywhere I went, perfectly decent people were going about their lives, failing to provoke a righteous pummeling.
Aha.
Well, this man just cut me in line for the ATM.
Now I have a reason to start a bare-knuckle brawl.
Ahem.
Excuse me.
- I was next for that ATM.
- Just-- Oh! Wow, wow.
That really hurts.
That's something I had not considered, how much it hurts me to punch somebody.
Obviously it hurts when you're getting punched, but-- Ah! Oh! Oh.
Yeah, I just shot somebody.
- Why? - I don't know.
I got scared, okay? Just shut up for a minute.
Let me think, Mom.
Yes, it happened again, okay? Forrest? You getting this? Forrest? Having been shot three times with a gun, I underwent emergency surgery to save my life.
The extreme blood loss caused me to slip into a coma, which I can only describe as restful.
Review footage allows me to appreciate that I received many visitors in my unconscious state, including my producer, Grant, and my executive assistant, Lucille, who struggled to put their concern into words.
What if we, like, put a pillow on his face and pretended we were smothering him? I mean, we would be smothering him, but we'd take the pillow off, obviously.
Would he fight for life? My intern, Josh, stopped by with his new girlfriend, Tina.
They behaved regrettably during their visit.
I was touched to see that even my estranged ex-wife stopped by, and despite the presence of this show's cameras, almost entered my room.
But most frequently by my side were my father and my nurse, Marisa, who was holding my hand when I miraculously emerged from two months in a coma.
Excuse me, I was next for that ATM.
- Bicycle.
- Very good.
Marisa stayed by my side down the long road to recovery.
Conspiracy.
Bridge.
And I'm happy to say that we struck up a bit of a romance.
That's good.
Learning to walk again was one of the greatest challenges of my life, but Marisa's cheerful, nurturing presence gave me something to walk toward.
There you are.
Over time, we shared our fears and struggles, and I vowed to get strong enough to hold Marisa up as she now held me, or as she put it one day during therapy I heal you, you heal me.
- Thank you.
- I'm so proud of you.
- God, Forrest, you almost died.
- Yes.
Are you starting to think that maybe you should have stayed in hiding and not come back to Review? Quite the opposite, A.
J.
A near-death experience has a way of focusing the mind on what's really important in life, and I feel more certain than ever before that what's important in my life is this work.
Wow.
And I certainly didn't think that my fists would lead me to a new girlfriend.
So allow me to weigh the good and the bad things that come from a bare-knuckle brawl and give it a very balanced 2 1/2 stars.
This next one is an email from Ahmed in East Lansing, Michigan.
- East Lansing? - Can you believe it? Yes.
- Blackmail? - Blackmail.
My goodness.
Wow.
Okay, well, uh, it looks like I am about to enter the rather shady world of using people's secrets against them.
Here I go.
And then I'd just be like, "Listen, you put $500 million in the garbage can, "or Mr.
MacNeil's gonna tell the whole world about you, you pervert.
" - Yes.
Okay.
- Yeah.
So what dirt do you have on Queen Elizabeth? I mean I don't-- I don't really have anything.
My staff and I scoured the Internet for damaging information about prominent public figures, but we came up empty.
I realized I would need to capitalize on secrets I already possessed.
Lucille, two weeks ago Friday, I saw you out canoodling with a man, not your boyfriend, Gordon.
Really thin guy in a baggy pair of jeans? Yeah.
That was him.
It would really be a shame if Gordon were to find out about that.
It was Gordon.
He just had lap band surgery.
- Are you serious? - Yeah.
Well, he looks great.
That night, my darling Marisa slept peacefully in my childhood bed, but my concern over this review made sleep impossible and a few extra painkillers necessary.
It was then that I realized I did know someone with a damaging secret.
Marisa had a habit of helping herself to her patients' leftover pills.
No amount of painkillers could anesthetize me from what I would have to do next.
My cousin Dede just got back from the Terranea Resort.
She said it's gorgeous.
We should go there sometime.
She said that they do couples massages, but they come to your room, which means your room has to be big - Yes.
- To fit two whole massage tables.
Yes.
Honey, I What are you doing? This bottle of Percocet is made out to Edith Reinhardt.
Uh, sweetheart are you Edith Reinhardt? Am I--no.
I'm--no.
No.
Neither am I.
This bottle of generic OxyContin is made out to Acquanetta Hamilton.
Are you Acquanetta Hamilton? I'm--what are you doing? Neither am I.
You and I aren't any of these people because you stole these pills.
Okay.
Those people are dead now.
So they're just going to be thrown away, and it's wasteful.
If you don't give me $500 a week for the next six months, I'm gonna show, uh, all these to your boss.
Why would you do that? You're being blackmailed.
I'm be-- Yeah.
Okay.
- I'm being blackmailed? - You're being blackmailed.
Yeah.
You--you did something wrong, and you're going to have to pay-- No, I understand the concept of blackmail.
- Okay.
- What is wrong with you? Thank you.
Thank you very much.
Do you need money? Are you in, like, trouble or something? I'm gonna write you a check, okay? - You are? - For $1,000, yes.
But can you please put the pills away? Marisa seemed to feel that writing this check would put an end to the matter, and her misunderstanding allowed us to move on for now.
I counted this $1,000 as payment for the first and second weeks.
With the storm cloud of extortion comfortably in the distance, Marisa and I fell deeper and deeper in love.
But when the third week came and Marisa didn't pay, I carefully chose a good time to remind her of our arrangement.
Oh, by the way I do need that $500 by 10:00 tomorrow night, or I'm gonna just have to tell your boss about the stolen pills.
Sorry, sorry, sorry.
Why would you do that to me, you asshole? Okay, okay, well, maybe the real question is why would you steal narcotics, right? You took some of those pills, Forrest.
Okay, okay.
All right.
You benefitted from those pills.
Let's just drop it.
$500 by 10:00 tomorrow and now let's just cuddle, okay? - No.
- I call--I call inside spoon.
You can't blackmail me and then try to be the inside spoon! Marisa was not spooning, inside or out.
Our relationship was in trouble, and it was blackmail's fault.
I did what I could to be there for Marisa, indeed, spending much of the blackmail money she paid me to buy a couples massage package at the Terranea Resort.
But my numerous calls to invite her went unanswered.
Hi.
I hadn't heard from you, and I was just really worried.
That's because you're blackmailing me, Forrest.
You know that doesn't keep me from missing you, right? Forrest, this is the worst thing anyone has ever done to me.
Do you get that? What happened to "I heal you, you heal me"? Nothing has happened to that.
Just this--this is also happening to both-- - Doesn't make any sense.
- Hey, wait, wait, wait, wait.
- I got you--no.
- I don't want them.
Marisa, just tell me what I can do.
You could stop blackmailing me, you douchebag.
Oh, come-- Marisa, sweetheart, uh, I need this week's payment.
Are you kidding me? Our relationship was falling apart, and I was heartbroken.
I'm leaving the flowers on your doorstep, okay? Those are yours.
- flowers.
- Ow.
But Marisa's choice to not pay me left me with no choice.
Oh.
Just wanted to stop by and just let you know what a wonderful nurse Marisa is.
She's just a devoted, committed nurse.
That's good.
You know, I just also wanted to add sometimes she would even, uh, swipe pills from other patients to give to me.
Above and beyond the call of duty, and those are some of those pills.
- Swipe pills? - Yeah, mm-hmm.
Yeah, so just wanted to let you know that you've got a real superstar of a nurse on your hands.
There's nothing bad about her.
There's nothing bad.
I hoped that by emphasizing Marisa's assets rather than her felonies, I could secure the minimum punishment.
Maybe the two would even cancel each other out.
Sadly, that evening, I learned that was not the case.
Forrest! - Is that Marisa? - Forrest! - That is Marisa.
- Get over here! - Marisa, are you okay? - You told her! - I know.
- You told my boss! I know, I know.
I'm really sorry.
- I'm really sorry.
- I lost my job.
- Oh, God.
- I lost my job! I will never work as a nurse again! What am I going to do? I really did not want that to happen.
Why did you force my hand like that? - I forced you? - I mean, I really had no-- You did.
I mean, I asked you so many times.
I could go to jail, you head.
Okay, listen, I hope you don't go to jail.
I really do, but if you did, I would visit you every single day.
I don't care if you visit me.
I was in love with you.
What do you mean you were in lo-- I'm still in love with you.
Nothing's changed.
I'm not in love with you anymore.
You blackmailed me.
Oh, wow.
I know.
And sometimes that's what blackmail is.
- It hurts the people you love.
- No.
- And it's really bad.
- No, no.
It's really, really bad.
- You hurt me - Whoa, hey, hey, hey, hey, hey.
- And I hurt you.
- Oh, God! Whoa! Oh, God! Oh! Oh, my God.
- Da--oh, are you all right? - Yeah, she shot the ceiling.
Oh, my God, she was gonna shoot me.
Blackmail requires a callousness not suited to the average man.
Put it down! You're pointing it at yourself! It may have made me extra money, but it made my life immeasurably poorer.
Eat a bag of shit! I hate you.
In trying to do this review justice, I somehow brought disaster to the life of someone I love.
Ruined my life! I'm deeply saddened to lose my sweet Marisa.
Blackmail is bad.
Whew.
This review is tweeted to us by @JustinMFR.
- Aha.
- He writes I guess, uh, I guess I'm off to seek glory.
- In a hole.
- Yes.
Good.
Okay.
There are two types of holes in the world, those that promise glory and those that do not.
And though I'd never considered the question before, it was no simple task to distinguish one from the other.
Excuse me, is this a glory hole? That's a family hole.
Do you know if there's anything on the Internet about where to find anonymous sex? I think pretty much the whole Internet is for that.
That has not been my experience with the Internet, but I'm looking for a glory hole, in particular.
Oh, if you're looking for a glory hole, you should just go to, like, a seedy gay bar.
Okay.
That is quite possibly the least helpful suggestion you could ever have made.
I mean, why would a woman give anonymous oral sex at a gay bar? I'll look online.
Josh and the Internet came through, locating a long list of active glory holes in my area.
There were a lot of lonely ladies and a lot of glory holes in this city.
I headed to the one closest to my dad's house.
Well, here it is.
I must say, the idea of placing my member into this hole to be pleasured by some mystery woman has me excited, yes, but also pretty nervous.
Here we go.
So far, uh nothing to report.
Oh, sorry.
Just using the glory hole.
I had arrived a bit early, but once the sun went down and the park was officially closed, the glory hole was officially open.
The name was right.
It was glorious.
The woman behind that stall had a talent well beyond anything I had ever experienced Oh, wow.
Oh, wow.
Well beyond anything my ex-wife had demonstrated on any of my birthdays.
Wow.
I returned the next night and the night after that, and on each occasion, the glory was equally glorious.
There was etiquette to consider Whoa, excuse me.
- I'm next for the glory hole.
- Hey, man.
But in general, I found no downside to the glory hole.
Myself and the other men enjoying this woman's talents were experiencing sexual intimacy at its best.
I was completely satisfied without having to cater to my partner's pleasure.
I knew it would be a violation of the spirit of the glory hole to meet the generous woman on the other side of that partition, but wasn't it equally unforgivable to let the chance to meet her pass? Yes, it was.
Oh, I'm sorry.
The woman who was just in here, did you see where she went? No.
I began spending all my spare time in the park searching for my mystery mouth.
And then, it happened.
- Hey there.
- Hi.
I've been seeing you here a bunch lately.
It's funny.
Yeah.
I'm Forrest.
- I'm Lynn.
- Her name was Lynn.
She was a PhD student and exactly the sort of sweet-natured person who, it seemed to me, would selflessly pleasure strange men through the partition of a bathroom stall.
Hey, I got a crazy question for you.
Hmm? Are you the woman in the glory hole? I have been putting my erect penis in that hole for the past week, and I just thought I recognized you.
Wait, hang on.
Was she the wrong woman, or was she indeed the maven of the stall? I would never know.
In most relationships, there is a wall of some sort keeping two people from truly seeing each other.
A glory hole makes that wall literal, but it doesn't make the experience any less meaningful.
Glory holes, You never did find the woman behind that glory hole, did you, Forrest? Sadly, no, I did not.
I have a feeling you never will.
That's all the time we have for my first episode back.
It feels great to be here.
Please join us next time on Review.