Sean Sperling (12:31)

Man vs. Wild vs. T. Rex.

Peter Sagal (12:34)

Man vs. Wild vs T. Rex. Who will win? I'll check in with you later in the evening and we'll find out. I wrote down a man versus Wa versus T. Rex. Team three has only two people because they're that smart. Anna and Patrick. Where are you? You're over there. Okay. What is your name? Holy shit. Where's the what people keep shouting bear bell. Oh, in a lot I'm being told. Would you come over and explain this?

Kristen Daly (13:08)

I've heard that in Alaska when you're.

Sean Sperling (13:10)

Wandering about, you ring your bear bell.

Kristen Daly (13:12)

To scare the bears away.

Sean Sperling (13:13)

From you to make sure they don't come after you.

Peter Sagal (13:18)

Bear Bell. Holy shit. Where's the Bear Bell? Isn't there a danger you'll draw fire from nearby helicopters? Where's the Bear Bell? All right, we have our judges, we have our musician, we have our producer. I think we're ready to go. We're ready to do this. Your cell phones are off. Okay, now what we're going to do is we are going to pick the names at random from this thing. The names of the ten performers who you have on your program. I'm reaching. The name is Matt Miller. You're up. Matt Miller is first. Listen, Matt, you come up, you get ready, get yourself set. We were talking backstage, and it turns out from the woman who run them off, it turns out there's a disadvantage to going first. There's the nerves. You got to start off the evening. There's kind of grade inflation that goes on as the people have more to drink. So to both give Matt a second to get ready and also to make sure that he's not actually first, I'm going to go first. Little brief story. This is a true story without notes. In 1992, I moved to Minneapolis after many desolate years in Los Angeles. And very soon I'm just going to name cities and people will cheer, and then I'll feel popular. Duluth, Schomburg. In 1992, I moved to Minneapolis, and very soon thereafter, I met a beautiful young woman named Beth, who I became very attached to. And she to me, and I was very, like I said, enamored of this young woman. And so much so that when she invited me to go on a ski trip with her in Colorado, I said, of course I will go, even though I had never skied in my life. So she taught me to ski, and we went out to Colorado, and we had many adventures. Perhaps I'll tell another time, but the story I wanted to tell you right now was coming back from Colorado, we were driving back through. If you've ever made this trip through Nebraska, and it just so happened, maybe you know, this place. We're driving back through Nebraska, and it's early January 1993, and we are in the middle of a huge driving Midwestern snowstorm, which I had never really experienced at that point, had just moved to the Midwest. And it's one of those things where the snow is just coming down completely horizontally, and we're driving down the interstate slower and slower and slower, and we are seeing crazed headlights pointing up from the ditches, from the trucks that have jackknifed and got off the road. And I say to myself, and I'm driving, and I say to myself, oh, my God, I've met this young woman. I'm in love. And now I'm going to kill her.

Beth Stelling (16:12)

Great.

Peter Sagal (16:14)

So we finally decide that we got to pull off the road. We can't keep going. We pull off the road, we're creeping, creeping, creeping in one of these access roads. And we get to a motel. Thank God. Glowing. Yes. It's light. There's lights. There's warmth. We're going to live. We get to the motel, we're starving to death. We have not eaten all day. And we say, we'd love some food. And they say, we're sorry, our restaurant's just closed and have nothing to feed you. We're very hungry. We said it was another restaurant. They said, well, there's another place down the road. So we decide to get in the car and go. And so again, the snow's coming down. The drifts are piling up. We're peering through the horrible snow that the headlights are making even worse. And again, I honestly think that if there are people who have died in car wrecks, in snowstorms, their last five minutes were just like this. That's what they were thinking. Oh, my God, I'm going to die. And we drive and we drive and we drive. And that 10 miles are the longest 10 miles I've ever driven in my life. They seemed to take my whole life. My new girlfriend sitting next to me. And finally, out of the darkness comes this light. A glow that's hard to tell apart from the rest of it. And we come up and there is this amazing place. It is designed to be the facade of an old Midwestern or an old Western town, I should say. So. There's the saloon and the dance hall and the sheriff's office. It's all in this big fake facade. And it's beautiful, and it's colorful and it's Disney like, and it's lit with klieg lights. And I'm like, we're saved. We will eat. We will live. I will spend my life with this woman. Everything will be great. And we get out of the car, and we look at the place, and Beth says, I've been here. I hate this place. Then we got married, and we have three kids. She's here tonight. Beth Zagel. My life, my wife. Ladies and gentlemen, our first storyteller, Matt Miller. Here you go.

Kevin Gladys (18:25)

I was 17 when I started driver's education. It was the end of the summer. And I was the last in my group of friends without my driver's license. Now, the program sanctioned by my high school took four weeks minimum to complete. I didn't have that kind of time. Fortunately, there was another option. Mr. Zip's driver's education. Their slogan was genius. We'll zip you in and we'll zip you out. They promised certification in one week flat. It was as sketchy as it sounds. That is true. As I turned the corner out of the hallway into the dingy classroom, I met the man who was to teach me the rules of the road and so much more. Brad. Just Brad. I never found out his last name. Just to paint the picture, Brad was easily 300 pounds. He had a spiky brown mullet, which my mother later informed me wasn't so much a hairstyle as an entire way of life. And he had the kind of glasses that automatically tint in harsh light. You know this man? And after all of us are seated, about 10 students in all, Brad begins class with these fateful, fateful words. Hello, welcome to Mr. Zips Driver's Education. My name is Brad, and I will be your instructor for the next week. And by law, I'm required to tell you that in 1984, I was convicted of a felony. Silence. I was expecting some kind of reaction from the vapid smiley girls in the front row, but no one said anything. A statement like that, however, could not be ignored. I slowly raised my hand. What did you do? Oh, I taught driver's education without a license, Brad replied. But I'm all good now. Certificates on the wall over there. A long pause hung in the air. Also, there were some drugs. Ah, yes, also there were some drugs. Apparently, cocaine was just an afterthought for Brad, a transgression barely worth mentioning. It soon became clear that Brad wasn't going to teach us about driving so much as he was going to tell us about the horrible things he had done as a young adult and the terrible consequences he had paid as results. He regaled us with stories about breaking and entering, nights he had spent in prison, the various narcotics he had tried. We all listened in rapt awe. One of Brad's more salient lessons concerned the dangers of drinking and driving. According to Brad, now when you're driving drunk, you see two roads. Again, silence. I slowly raised my hand. Which road should you take? Always take the lower road. Brad replied with the air of a professor explaining a difficult philosophical subtlety. Always take the lower road. Now, all of the actual driving sessions with Brad were incredibly, incredibly Memorable. There was the time he made me drive to an adult superstore where he bought porn. There was the time where he shot at a dog. But the most memorable driving session was the last night, Friday night. We were going to practice driving on the highway at night. And after a few minutes, Brad saw that I knew what I was doing and he looked at me and said in a low and somewhat ominous monotone, get off at the next exit. I want to show you something. And very shortly I found myself alone with my creepy driving instructor in the backwoods of Nowheresville, Ohio. And I began to get a little afraid. We had passed the last lighted farmhouse about 10 minutes ago. If Brad's intentions were sinister, it would be difficult to get help. But then suddenly, Brad hit the special brake he had on the passenger side of the car. Remember this break? We pulled over to the side of the road and he pointed off through the window to a leafy ravine and a boggy pond. And then he said, right there, right there. Mother humper jumped across the road right there. Freaking 10ft tall, 20 years looking, I thought I'd never see one. I then realized where we were. Brad had taken me to the place where he had seen the Sasquatch leap across his path only a few months before. He had taken me to the place where he had seen Bigfoot. When I analyze it now, I think about how much trust must have been involved on Brad's part to tell his 17 year old student that he knew about these creatures, believed in them, knew where they live, what they eat, how they swim. We got out of the car and walked down the ravine a little bit and we stood under the Ohio stars. And Brad told me about the whole experience. How he was alone and a little bit drunk and it was just a fleeting glimpse but he was sure it was him, sure it was the Bigfoot. We walked back up to the car then and Brad opened the trunk of the car which proved to be full of stolen library books about the yeti. Dozens of books that he had read and re read, studied, breathed. And it was then that I saw his loneliness. How similar they were, Brad and the yeti. Both lost men, adrift in a world that does not believe in them, has no place for mystery. I didn't see Brad again after that night, but I took my driving test the next day and I passed on the first try. Thank you. I. I don't drive as much now that I live in the city, but when I'm at home in Ohio, driving on those back roads, I keep an eye to the tree line. Because as I learned in driver's education, our world is a mysterious place. And it doesn't matter to the Bigfoot whether or not you believe.

Peter Sagal (25:01)

Matt Miller, ladies and gentlemen. Oh, wrong. Uh. Oh. I was told this is really. Oh, I see. Hold on. This thing right. There we go. He explained that earlier. Sean Sperling is going to be our next storyteller. Sean, you get ready. You come up on stage, get yourself set. In the meantime, it's time for some scores. You guys ready? Judges? All right, we're going to work our way back to you guys. Okay, so let's go with the third judging team because there's only two of you. What was it? Oh, shit. Where is my bare bell? That team. Do you have a score? What is that score? 7.6 is the score for Matt Miller. Man versus Wild versus T. Rex. How are you guys doing? Fine. How are you? I'm excellent. I'm really good. I'm fine. I wish I had a beer, but I'm performing, so I can't have one yet. I'll have one later. Do you have a score, guys? 8.2 for man versus wild versus D. Rex. Are you guys ready? 7.9 from. From. Yeah, that was. That was a more defeated Tarzan than you guys are used to. I'll work on it. I'll work on it. Ladies and gentlemen, introducing storyteller number two, Sean Sperling. Sean, you're up.

Beth Stelling (26:49)

Like most teenage girls when I was in high school, I had a very poor body image, and I did anything in my power to avoid taking my shirt off. I didn't play sports with the other guys for fear of the dreaded locker room. I never went to the pool in the summertime. And in high school, in sophomore, junior, and senior year, I was the only boy to take dance class instead of gym just so I could have my own dressing space. Now, freshman year, I had to take gym class. And what I would do is I'd put on my gym shirt under my other shirt the period before. So in the locker room, I'd just take off my top shirt without anybody looking. Now, sometimes that didn't always work, especially when we had swimming, right? So during the week we had swimming. I talked to my gym teacher and I told him that I had my period. I think he was so freaked out that he just let me sit down, you know, so. But here's the thing. This is the battle I had. I had an inner battle with this. Because the truth is, I really wanted to play sports, and I wanted to go, you know, swimming in the summer. And I wanted to roll around with my shirt off, you know, playing football with the guys. And not just for the obvious reasons either, right? But I was so insecure. And this insecurity went with me after high school. And after high school, I didn't go to college right away. I first joined the group up with People. I don't know if you know Up With People, but it's a group since the 60s where you join young people from all over the world and you travel and for one year and you do community service and you perform this really cheesy, awful musical and you live with host families. Well, you can imagine, like a scenario like this. It's not easy to keep your clothes on 24 hours a day, right? But I made it work. That is, until January of 1998. That month, I elected to do an internship in Finland. In January, in Finland. Cold as hell, dark as hell, weird people. I love Finland. I loved it. But it's a little odd, right? So I get, you know, before I went to Finland, I did some research on the culture, and I found out that the biggest thing to do in the winter is go to the sauna. You do this with your host or with your family. You go in naked with grandma, grandpa, mom and dad. You sit there all day, and then you roll in the snow and you go back in. Well, of course, I was mortified by this thought and I vowed I would not do it, right? So I get to Finland and I go to my host family's house, and they live in an island, right on an island outside of the city, in the middle of the wilderness. And it's beautiful. And I get there and it's very awkward. I'm so culture shocked. I don't know the language. I don't know what to do with my shoes. I don't know how to eat. I don't know anything. And to top it off, you know, my host family didn't know, like, hardly any English at all. Well, I get there the first night and I sit down and I think my host father used the six words of English he knew. He said, this weekend we go to sauna. It was like he knew I was so insecure about this, right? So I was like, yeah, no, I can't go, you know, like, I can't go to sauna this weekend because I've got work. Well, like every day he said, this week we go to sauna. And I always said, no, using the same excuse, but I had that same inner battle it was like I was in up with people. I was there to like, you know, jump out of my comfort zone and experience life. But I had this insecurity, so what to do? So one day on my way home from work, I had to take a bus to a ferry to get to this house on this island. And I thought maybe if I just do it by myself first, maybe if I just, you know, feel what it's like, then it'll be okay. But I didn't have access to a sauna, so I don't know if it was insanity or like the power of up with People, but I went into the middle of the wilderness and found a tree trunk where I proceeded to take off all of my clothes one article at a time. And I put my shoes back on and I took a deep breath and I felt amazing. It was like this new energy had arisen above and I had so much adrenaline and excitement and somehow my 18 year old, awkward, overweight body with my penis, which at this point had inverted into a vagina, I still felt like the most beautiful man alive. And I proceeded to run through the forest, like leaping and singing and dancing. It was like I could hear like, I don't know, like the Battle Hymn of the Republic or something playing. And I just felt alive until I started getting really fucking cold. So I turned around and I'm still feeling great and I'm running back and I don't know if it was the adrenaline or the excitement or what, but I lost my clothes. I was breathing heavy, I was panicking and I was going through all these scenarios like, what should I do? What should I do? Should I go to a neighbor and tell them I was mugged? But then I was like, who gets mugged in the middle of Finland? And then like, who steals your clothes when you get mugged, right? So then I was like, okay, no, no, I'll go to my host family's house and just pretend like nothing happened. I mean, they don't know English anyway, right? Well, luckily I found my clothes. It's frozen at this point, I'm shivering. I put it on, it's crispy, it's crunchy. And I run back home and I dry off and I, you know, warm up and I sit down for dinner. And the first words out of my host dad's mouth is, this weekend we go to sauna. And I took a deep breath and I said, okay. And that Sunday I piled in the sauna with mom and dad and brothers and grandma and grandpa and aunts and uncles and I sat there naked and I felt great. And we rolled in my snow, my inverted penis and all, and we went back in and it was the best cultural experience of my life.

Peter Sagal (33:04)

Thank you. You realize, Sean, if you had taken your clothes off in the telling of that story, you would have won by acclamation. I did not expect that. Let me give you judges some time to come up with your scores while I get over my shock and discomfort. All right. I'm fine. Let's work in reverse part. How about the team down here? What's your name? I want to try it. Here we go.

Sean Sperling (34:00)

Yeah.

Peter Sagal (34:03)

He was falling from a vine. 7.4 from the Tarzan yell. Let's go a second this time to Holy shit, Where's my bear bell? What do you guys think? I can't see. You have to shout it out. What? 7.4 again. Even scores. Even scores. And lastly, man versus wall versus T. Rex. What do you guys think? 7.8. Excellent. Well done, Sean. Kristen Daly, you're up. Come on. Kristen should have said that before. I'm sorry. You guys were totally nervous. Just to give Kristen a second. I was talking to Kristen earlier. Kristin is here from St. Louis. She came up for her original Came up for her original story. Slam. Won that slam. She got back on the train, came back here for this. Kristen Daly, ladies and gentlemen. Right here.

H (35:07)

Actually, this summer I took the Megabus. Hi. In 2001, I moved from Boston to St. Louis. My husband was offered a good job. I was starting a new career as a nurse and my in laws are from the St. Louis area and I really do like them. Really, I don't have to just say that. And we had visited often and my husband and I thought in St. Louis we could make a new start and there'd be opportunities for us and for our kids. Now my family, pretty much my entire extended family lives in the state of Massachusetts. And my maternal grandmother, who everyone calls Gigi, had a particular viewpoint on that. I don't know if you've ever seen old fashioned maps. The map maker would draw what was known and borders and boundaries and features on the map. And then when it got to uncharted territory, the mapmaker would draw a fantastical mythical monster. And next to it would be the words here there be dragons. That was pretty much Gigi's worldview. She felt that if you stepped outside the magical protected circle of really the greater Boston area, but she was willing to extend it to Massachusetts, that you were not only going into unknown lands but dangerous ones. And I was her favorite grandchild and she was not happy that I was moving. I reassured her, reassured the rest of my family, packed up our version of a covered wagon, my beaten up geoprism with the two kids and whatever we could fit in, sent the moving van ahead and drove out to St. Louis. Our first day wasn't the most auspicious. We had three hours to get everything we owned off the moving truck, up to a third floor walk up apartment in 102 degree heat with no air conditioning. So air conditioner had broken and we survived that, poured water over each other and in each other for the whole day. And the next day I started a new job, my husband started a new job, my daughter went to daycare for the first time, and my son started his preschool. And I remember thinking, wow, it's all going to be smooth sailing from here, right? Over the next six months, I'm going to give you what genuinely is only a partial list of some of the things that happened while we were in St. Louis. My husband had a heart attack scare, just scare. The actual heart attack came two and a half years later. I woke up one morning with what I thought was a rash and discovered that I had 200 chigger bites from my ankles to my waist, which resulted in months of constant itching and resulted in me walking basically like Frankenstein with a diaper, which I have to say did not inspire confidence in my patients. So it also made it very difficult to escape with my daughter from the rampaging squirrel who ate through our screen and spent several hours in our apartment pooping on all of our furniture. A little while later, as I was studying for my nursing boards and I had our only car, I came home to discover that my daughter had had a 30 minute long febrile seizure which brought her ambulance ride to the hospital, a spinal tap and a lot of other medical procedures. My kids had to be tested for lead poisoning because our extremely hardworking maintenance men mistakenly removed all of the plaster and many layers of old lead paint from our bathroom. And then a few days after Thanksgiving, just when I was sort of starting to relax a little bit, my five year old son Connor was diagnosed with leukemia. At that point, my co workers, my family, my friends, pretty much everybody thought I should take the hint, pull up stakes and go back to Boston. Obviously everything was on hold while my son was in treatment, but as soon as he felt a little bit better and was well enough to travel, we went on a family vacation back to Boston. Now my husband was a little nervous because I know he was thinking that once I got Back to Boston. I wasn't coming back. And my Gigi, not so secretly and rather vocally hoped that that is exactly what would happen. So we went back. We had fun. We saw family. We ate way too much seafood. We dragged the poor kids around to museums and the beach. But something was odd. Something was off, and I really couldn't put my finger on it. And the day we were getting ready to go back to St. Louis, I remembered something that had happened a few weeks before back in St. Louis. Connor had gotten chemotherapy that morning, and he felt really, really terrible. I knew him because he wasn't talking a mile a minute, and he just. He looked so wan and so sad. On the way back from the hospital, I had to return something at the store. And as we left, in the lobby, there were a lot of, you know, those little crappy vending machines. And Connor's face lit up and he pointed to one and he said, mom, look. And there were the little rubber monster finger puppets. And he said, can I have one of those? Now, I didn't have a cent on me. I mean, I didn't have cash. I didn't have change. I had nothing. And I don't know why at that moment. Sometimes it's not the big things that break you. It's the little things. And I couldn't fix anything. I couldn't make him feel better, and I couldn't even buy him a damn finger puppet. And that's the first time that I really felt defeated. I was done. I really felt like it was a sign. And as I was shaking my head and about to tell him that I couldn't get it for him, the man who'd been filling the vending machines had obviously overheard us. And he came over. He unlocked the one that Connor had pointed at, took off the lid, motioned him on over, and told him to take as many finger puppets as he wanted. Now, he couldn't have known that Connor had cancer. Connor had two and a half years of chemotherapy, never lost his hair. All he saw was, tired mom, tired kids, hot day. And he did a kind thing. I don't know who he is, but he will never know what that gesture meant to me that day. Because just like small things can break you, small things can save you. So Gigi was right, you know, I thought about all of those people, though, who had done large and small kindnesses for me and for my family during our time in St. Louis, our short time in St. Louis. And I realized, as I said again, that Gigi was right. Sometimes when you venture out into uncharted territory, you will encounter monsters. But when new friends, acquaintances, and sometimes even perfect strangers reach out to help you, you can slay the dragon and you can navigate even the most hazardous terrain. And as I was on the plane winging my way back to St. Louis that day, I realized why I had felt so odd during my visit to Boston. Boston? Because it was just that. A visit and not a return. And while Boston would always be my hometown, I had been lucky enough to find a home in the wilds of the Midwest. Thanks.

Peter Sagal (42:43)

Kristen Daly, ladies and gentlemen. Give it up for her, please. The next storyteller is going to be Beth Stelling. While she's getting ready and while our judges are working on their scores, let's see what some of you had to say about the evening's. About the evening's theme. You all answering some questions. What's your greatest survival skill and how was it tested? I'll just read some at random. My greatest survival skill has been my ability to survive my own stupidity. I survived falling off a cliff head first, Sticking my head in a nest of Africanized bees. I love that image. It's like, all right, my head is in a nest of bees. What kind of bees are they? Hmm. Oh, I see. And getting into a truck with a stranger in the desert. There's no ending to the story, but they're here. So I assume it was all right. Following a trail in the dark for three miles in Kentucky in march. When the rangers said it was a quick walk, we had to ford a river. What is your greatest survival skill? Crying has gotten me out of countless traffic tickets. Brian, you really should stop that. One more, one more. Keeping the remote control away from my fat roommate so I don't have to watch biggest loser. Heavy. And I used to be fat. How is that a survival skill? All right, you guys ready with your scores? Let's go to the back of the room first this time. How would you guys think over there at. Holy shit. I lost my bare bell. I cannot see. You have to speak. 7.1. Excellent. All right, you guys down here, and don't make me do it. No, I'm terrible. Do you guys want. You've heard two really bad Tarzan yells. Do you want me to continue to do 6.3 from the Tarzan yell? And lastly from man vs Wild vs T. Rex. 7.1. By the way, we feel that since these judges are judging people, you can judge them. Go ahead, man. All right, Beth, you ready to go? Beth Stelling, ladies and gentlemen, coming to our stage right Now.

Kristen Daly (45:32)

Thanks, man. I really should have washed my hair for this. All right, guys. I've loved a lot of men from afar. Jordan Knight of New Kids on the Block. Charles of Charles in Charge. You, sir, up in the sound booth. But I've really only been in one long distance relationship, and it was with my dad. So my parents got divorced when my dad took off to Orlando, Florida. So when I was like six years old, my two older sisters and I started going down there to visit my dad because it was court ordered. Good man. Love. Him doesn't exactly have a way with words. And I'd still go see him to this day if he had something nice to say to me because I remember getting off the plane in high school to visit him and he'd be like, hey, B, looks like you got a little bit of acne. Thanks, dad. Or after my first year of college, he was like, more like the freshman 40, huh? Well, Dad, I eat because you left us. And I haven't washed my face since then either, except for the tears. So on one of these visits, still in college, I was still going to visit him. I get home from the airport, and around midnight that night, he calls me in the living room and he's like, hey, B, come here. Check this out. You're going to want to say this. And I'm like, I don't know, what's this going to be in my dad's backyard? Some tomatoes, zucchini, Perhaps a little okra he's cooking up for a gumbo. Didn't. Didn't expect to see 18 raccoons feeding out of a giant trough of dog food that he provided them. Yeah, and I threw in some Hershey kisses because even raccoons deserve dessert. That I agree with. Everyone deserves dessert. So, okay, My dad's feeding rabies infested animals in his backyard. And over the last three years, as you can imagine, the numbers have grown exponentially to 48. 48 raccoons sitting in his back. That's disgusting. He's like, don't worry, Bee. Like, I bleach the deck every night when they're done eating. Let me get this straight, dad. So you've created for yourself a 12am to 2am unpaid raccoon internship. Take. Take back your life. So my older sister calculates how much money he's been spending on dog food per year. Ends up being about $4,000. She didn't calculate the Hershey kisses because apparently those are marginal. So he says, you know, I've considered stopping, you know, but when we don't feed them. They take their long, skinny fingers, pick up rocks from our rock garden, and roll them up and down against our bedroom window until we come out and feed. Like, dad, you need to call an exterminator immediately. Like, well, I didn't even think about what that phone call would be like. Exterminator. Got a little bit of problem on my hands. Couple raccoons. Yeah, well, 48. Yeah. How? Direct result of my actions. That's why. So embarrassing. Sure. And very expensive. So my father decides that the route to go is traps, okay? So he goes with trapping them. He calls me about three weeks ago, and he's like, listen, I got things under control out here, all right? I got six traps out there. I'm catching, like, six to seven a night. So so far, I've trapped 39 raccoons, two possums, and a black cat. And there's still nine out there, big ones. So he's been trapping these, putting them in his car in the cage, which is the Geo, which is essentially a roller skate. Putting a blanket over the cage. He's like, did I tell you when I transport them, they sound like Halloween as they poke their fingers through. I don't feel bad for you. And then he goes, forgot to tell you that one got out last week when I was driving it to the open field. Thank God I had enough time to get out of the car, open the back hatch, it hissed and ran away. And I drove off. And I was like, I know exactly how that raccoon feels. So he's finally down to catching the leader that he is, named Snorky. This is a Growned man approaching 60, mind you. He says, I laid the cage down. Snorky walked out of it and started slowly following me to my car. I'm like, did you run? He's like, no, We've been friends for a long time. He's like, I just stood there in some swim trunks and let him walk up to me, and with his long, skinny fingers, he went like this on my leg as if to say, thank you. Yeah, dad, maybe that. Or as if to say, here are some rabies. Thanks for ruining me and my closest 37 relatives lives. You know, it doesn't grow out here in the open field. You left me in dog food and Hershey kisses. You judge. Thank you.

Peter Sagal (52:25)

Beth Stelling, ladies and gentlemen. Come back here, Beth. Come back. Great job, Kevin, Gladys, you're up next. You'll be our fifth and final storyteller of the first act tonight. So get ready. I actually. Because of my seating angle. I could not see the gesture that the raccoon made. Could someone down here replicate the gesture for me? Oh, that's creepy. I feel that story in a whole new light now that I saw the creepy gesture. Hang on. I've fallen in love with you all. Survival skill. My ability to weave seamlessly through crowds. Tested every day in the loop. I saw you do that. It wasn't that seamless. All right. Rapid blood coagulation, wound healing. I'm not reading any more of that. It went on for a while. Stealing people's identities pays to keep the lights on in my mansion. Ooh, we have a supervillain. Bwa. Thank you. Going into the fridge at work and eating other people's lunches Saves money and time in the morning. Making my own lunch. If these people knew who you were, they would stone you to death right now. And no jury in Chicago would convict. Smiling and pretending to care about what people have to say every day at work. This has really taken a dark turn. Let's move on to our judging for Beth's story. You guys go first this time. Man vs. Wild vs. T. Rex. What do you guys have to say? What? Say that again. 9.0. Well done. High score of the night so far for Beth Stellen. Holy shit. Where's my bare bell? What do you guys think? Shout it out. 8 0.8.0. And you guys, I've been sitting here. I've been distracted from the storytelling because I'm wondering how I'm going to deal with a Tarzan yell. I've decided I'm going to do a Tarzan yell, but in my version, he'll be yelling other things. So down in front, 8.7 there for the Tarzan yell. Well done, Beth. All right, we have one more storyteller for you in the first half of the evening. It is Kevin Gladish. Kevin, you're up.

Sean Sperling (55:07)

Hey, everybody. Hands down, my favorite animal in the zoo is the lemur. I love lemurs. I love their little cute raccoon like faces, Their long striped tails that they use to swing from branch to branch through the sky. I love them. Despite the fact that at the age of 13, I was attacked by three of them through the bars of a cage at African Safari wildlife park in Sandusky, Ohio. African safari was a family summer tradition. Now the first part of the park is sort of a drive through mini Serengeti where you can actually feed animals from the window of your car with a plastic bucket full of pellet food that you can purchase at the entrance. Zebras giraffes, water buffalo, you name it. The second part of the park is called Safari Junction. And it's sort of a walk through disappointment. Let's face it, after what you've just been through. Signs are posted at Safari Junction that pellet food is strictly forbidden. Now, my father, on the day in question was feeling particularly impish. My father, Norm, a brush cut former marine who in his later years developed a complete disregard for any rules, kept encouraging me to bring the food into Safari Junction. He kept saying things like, go on, Kev, what are they going to do, throw you out? Well, yeah, they could, I suppose. But then I looked around and realized there weren't any employees in sight. I started to wonder if anyone actually worked at Safari Junction or if the animals just ran things themselves, sort of collective. So I took the food into Safari Junction and I went straight to an 8 foot tall cage where my favorite primates were at play. Now, I don't know what it's like now, but at the time the only thing keeping visitors at any distance was a single chain at knee level attached to metal posts. My sister is getting really excited at this point. My little sister, four years younger, she's mom, mom, is Kevin going to feed the lemurs? My mother, no, he's not, Norm. He's not allowed. The sign said no. My father, go on, Kev. I'll keep a lookout. If I see anyone coming, I'll whistle. So I went in. The lemur closest to me was sitting on a four foot perch right by the edge of the cage. And as I put the bucket next to the cage, he looked at me and tentatively at first, he grabbed the edge of the bucket through the cage and with his other hand began scooping pellets into his happy little face. I was ecstatic. This is the closest I had ever been to one of these creatures. He was looking me in the eye and I could swear at the time he was smiling. The other lemurs were not so happy once they realized what was going on. There was a mad scramble to get up to that perch. And the next thing I knew, there were three lemurs grabbing at the bucket and trying to get food, and two more lemurs at my feet at the ground level of the cage, screeching at an impossibly high pitch at me to get the food to them. I said, okay, okay, you can all take turns. So I pulled the bucket away and kneeled down to feed the lemurs at my feet. It was at that point that the first punches were Delivered to my head. Lemurs punch hard. Before I realized what was going on. The lemur that I had originally fed, the one that had eaten his fill. My little buddy. That ungrateful little bastard. Had me by the hair. And was trying to pull me back up with one hand. While punching me with the other. The other two lemurs were getting in on the act and punching me as well. At this point, it's chaos. I'm screaming for help and flailing around wildly. Lemurs are screeching like banshees. Trying to get at me through the cage. I had managed to turn myself around. Still attached to the cage by this lemur's claw. And still there's no one around. There are no employees in sight. All I can see is my mother, frozen with horror. My little sister laughing hysterically. And my father. The man who had instigated all of this. Is filming the entire thing on his VHS camcorder. I knew at that point that I was on my own. So I yanked my head away as hard as I could. Leaving a small patch of hair in the lemur's claw. And a bleeding little bald patch on the top of my head. I ran to my father, grabbed the camera from him. And proceeded to rewind and tape over what would surely have been the winning entry in America's Funniest Home Videos. Now, as I said, I still love lemurs. You can't really blame them for what they did. I mean, they were hungry and they were angry. And no matter how cute and fuzzy they are. You can't really expect a wild animal to play nice and play by the rules. In the end, the lemurs were really just doing what was in their nature. And, yeah, so was my dad. Thank you.

Peter Sagal (61:00)

Kevin. Gladys, ladies and gentlemen, give it up for him. That was the fifth and final storyteller of the first act. We're going to wait for his score, Kevin's score, in just a second. But I want to let Lawrence Kearns know. That you're going to start off Act 2, 10 medicine. When we end. The maniacal lemurs of Sandusky, Ohio. All right, you guys have your scores? You guys ready to go? Are you still discussing it? All right, hold on. We'll give you a couple seconds. I want to see if we have any more horrible secrets here. This was turning into post secrets a little while ago. And see if we can keep it going. More survival skills in the audience. Being able to change out of my volleyball uniform into my work clothes while driving. I don't Know why this is so funny? The judo chop. Yet it remains untested. I'm imagining this person, whoever it is, male or female, I don't know, getting out of his or her apartment, walking into the street and thinking, maybe today is the day. Maybe I'll find that son of a bitch who's been stealing my lunch. I changed the battery on my smoke detector once. Stay out of large wilderness areas, sir, whoever you may be. Calmness under pressure. Hold on. It was is tested when I rock climb. All right, hold on. Here we go. One more, one more. Unlike Chris McCandless, I graduated from Emory and did not end up dying alone in the woods. Like, what's your survival skill? I'm not Chris McCandless. That's a good one. It's one we all share. It's not particularly unique, but it's useful. Ladies and gentlemen, are the scores ready? All right, again. Once again, I'll do a Tarzan yell, but other things. Tarzan might yell. Ready, Free Bird. Tarzan still thinks that's funny. 8.3 for Kevin. Gladys, Brian, you guys ready? Man versus wild versus T. Rex. What do you have to say? 9.0. They're liking what they're hearing. Our last score comes from. Oh, shit. Where's my bear? Bell, what do you have to say? 7.5 for Kevin. A little bit of a spread. Ladies and gentlemen, our first five storytellers are on the board. It is now time for an intermission in 10 solid minutes. Ladies and gentlemen, we'll see you back in 10.

Dan Kennedy (64:08)

So that was the first half of the Chicago into the Wild Grand Slam from January 2011, hosted by Peter Sagal. Join us next week for the second half of the evening and to hear who was crowned Chicago's first ever mock grand slampion. For more information about the evening storytellers as well as the story slam program in general, just go to our blog@themost.org and let us know what you think of this format of hearing a whole show in two installments. You can let us know on our Facebook page or just email us@podcastthemoth.org and thanks again for your support. We couldn't do any of this without.

Rosetta Stone Advertiser (64:51)

Our podcast host Dan Kennedy is the author of the book Rock An Office Power Ballad. Learn more@rockonthebook.com thanks to all of you.

Dan Kennedy (65:00)

For listening and we hope you have a story worthy week. Podcast audio production by Paul Ruest at the Argos studios in New York. Podcast hosting by PRX Public Radio Exchange helping make public radio more public@prx.org.