My favorite card trick

The trick:

I show the audience the four kings and explain as I put the cards face down on top of the deck that the kings are spending the night together in a castle.

One king decides to sleep in the basement, I say as I move the top card to the bottom of the deck. Another king will rest on the first floor, I tell the audience as I move the next card to the lower middle of the deck. Another king wants to sleep on the second floor, I explain as I shift the next card to the upper middle of the deck. And the final king will spend the night on the top floor, I declare as I leave the next card on top of the deck.

In the middle of the night, I announce to the audience, a rebel force approaches the castle. The king sleeping on the top floor hears the insurgents coming and alerts the other kings to join him atop the castle, where they can use a catapult to launch stones and spears at the rebels. I tap the deck to summon the monarchs. I proceed to turn over the top four cards in the deck, which happen to be the four kings.

How I perform the trick:

Before appearing in the living room, I hide in the kitchen and arrange the deck so that there are three cards hidden behind the four kings I will show to the audience. A woman wanting a drink walks in on me while I’m doing this, so I fix her a beverage with five times the usual amount of alcohol. Then when I perform the trick and she comes out of the kitchen declaring that I’ve stacked the deck, I cry out, “Oh dear, she’s drunk again,” and no one takes her seriously.

When explaining that the four kings are spending the night together in a castle, some wise guy makes the wisecrack, “Are you sure they aren’t four queens?” I ask the wiseass how his son is enjoying summer camp, especially sleeping in a cabin with seven other guys. The wisenheimer doesn’t interrupt again.

As I move the first card to the bottom of the deck, a woman in front crouches down so she can get a look at the card. To prevent her from seeing that it’s not a king, I angle the deck so the bottom is away from the audience and I remark to the woman that her position reminds me of a scene from the film “Boogie Nights.”

While declaring that the first king is sleeping in the basement, a professorial type interrupts to say, “You mean ‘dungeon,’ don’t you?” To which I reply: “Actually, ‘dungeon’ comes from the word ‘donjon,’ which means a tower.” The professorial type says, “I’m sorry.” To which I reply, “You mean ‘deplorable,’ don’t you?”

After moving the four cards to different parts of the deck, a woman asks to shuffle the cards, which would ruin the trick. But I have planned for this by doing the prestidigitation right after the audience has eaten barbecued chicken wings — and by hiding the napkins. “I wouldn’t want you to mark the cards with barbecue sauce and make my job easier,” I tell her.

By the time moist towelettes are passed around, I’m ready to tap the deck and reveal the four kings. Someone whose hands are now clean volunteers to tap the deck, but I tell him he can’t because he isn’t a member of the magicians union. When he wonders if I’m a member of the union, I say that I’m not, but that the local has granted me a temporary waiver.

Once the four kings are revealed and the applause has died down, several members of the audience ask me to do the magic trick again. I tell them I can’t, because my magicians union waiver only applies if I do the trick once and just once. I remind those that boo how pathetic worker conditions would have been in this country had it not been for the labor movement. An argument ensues between pro-union and anti-union enthusiasts, giving this magician enough of a diversion to pull a disappearing act.