1000 Ways to Die s03e22 Episode Script

Stupid As Death Does

Male announcer: Hey, you.
Tv viewer.
Oh, you don't like being beat by a girl? Announcer: Are you gonna watch something touchy-feely? What's that thing there between your legs? Announcer: Or this twisted tale of stupidity and death? I know.
We had you at "stupid.
" Whoa whoa whoa whoa Announcer: As a reward, we offer this A deadbeat dad who got ejected.
[Crash.]
A poser artist who exploded onto the scene.
[Boom.]
How 'bout a really dumb spy? Is it cold this time of year? No.
Announcer: Or a drinking game nobody can win.
The couch is on fire! There's a video gamer who can't stop.
And a pervert who likes to keep an eye on things.
We're raising the bar and lowering the boom.
Aah! Announcer: On the next episode of 1,000 ways to die.
[Rock music.]
Death is everywhere.
Most of us try to avoid it.
Others can't get out of its way.
Every day, we fight a new war against germs Toxins Injury Illness, and catastrophe.
There's a lot of ways to wind up dead.
The fact that we survive at all is a miracle Because every day we live We face 1,000 ways to die.
we get a lot of losers on this show.
Whoo! Announcer: But a guy who turns his back on his own family, I'd like to kill him myself.
Announcer: Mitch left his wife and kids in order to find himself.
Whoa whoa whoa whoa Announcer: And now he can be found just getting drunk and wasted with his dumb, fat friend Jocko.
[Singing.]
[Cell phone ringing.]
It's Sofie's recital, and you know how much it means to her.
Announcer: But it meant nothing to this selfish bag of pig excrement.
I have to work the whole weekend, all right? Deal with it.
Announcer: The only thing Mitch cared about was setting up his new guy pad.
Aw! Announcer: Mitch was stoked.
He found the one piece of furniture that tied the whole room together.
What's that thing? Announcer: A pilot seat from an old Soviet fighter jet.
- Are you serious? - It's the real thing, bro.
[Laughs.]
Announcer: Mitch plopped down in his Top Gun lounge chair for a test drive.
Dude, what's that thing there between youregs? Announcer: Rule of thumb.
Whenever someone asks, "what does this lever do?" Never ever pull it.
[Boom.]
Dude! Mitchell! Announcer: Turns out the fighter jet seat was not only authentic, it was hot, as in ready to launch.
Mitch! Ejector seats are a lot easier to get than you think.
They're supposed to be demilitarized, which means they take the rockets out and make them inert, but a lot of 'em, people get lazy and don't take the rockets out, and surplus stores sometimes sell live seats.
I made three phone calls and found three seats in less than an hour that were live.
[Boom.]
Dude! Mitch! Ejector seats were designed to get you out of an airplane as fast as possible.
You pull a mechanism that has a timer on it.
The first timer blows your cockpit off.
You have half a second.
Then it starts firing the rockets, which shoot you up a set of rails and out of the aircraft.
You can go 200 feet high in a couple seconds.
Announcer: Mitch only made it about ten.
His skull cracked like an egg, his brains scrambled.
There's a word for guys who abandon their families.
I have to work the whole weekend, all right? Deal with it.
Announcer: Deadbeat.
But there's a simpler, even better one for Mitch.
[Boom.]
Dead.
What people do in the privacy of their home is their own business.
It's not right to judge.
Unless we're talking about Chester.
- Devon.
- Come on in.
Announcer: He's a acrotomophiliac.
Can I see it? Announcer: He likes to have sex with amputees.
Chester spent all his time online, trying to hook up with amputees.
He hit the jackpot with Devon.
- Can I touch it? - Yeah.
Announcer: A car accident took her arm, but Devon's loss was Chester's gain.
[Laughs.]
Announcer: He was in severed heaven.
The acrotomophiliac is interested sexually in people who are amputated.
There is actually stump worship.
Many times they call it "stump humping.
" You lick it, you love it, you just go to town on it.
Announcer: Devon was already a dream come true.
Oh, I wish there was something else missing.
Well, today is your lucky day.
Announcer: But then she showed him a whole new hole to explore.
Chester was on fire.
Oh, yeah! Announcer: He banged his banged-up beauty for hours Oh! Announcer: Until exhausted.
Do you think I can use your shower? Yeah.
Announcer: After cleaning up, Devon got the shock of a lifetime.
Chester was dead.
Oh! Wake up! Announcer: Here's how it went down.
When Devon popped her fake eye Oh! Announcer: She put it in a glass of water.
After their exhausting stump humping session, Chester was thirsty.
He took a drink and got a mouthful of eye candy.
[Choking.]
Once a glass eye gets lodged in the windpipe, you can start getting frantic and start breathing Trying to breathe faster and harder.
The muscle starts contracting, and that's exactly the wrong thing to do because the muscle can start pushing the glass eye further and further down, so it gets socked in even more strongly.
Announcer: Chester looked death straight in the eye, and then swallowed it whole.
Aah! Announcer: Coming up, being stupid can lead to a fatal condition known as death.
Hey, the couch is on fire! Announcer: And a video game fanatic gets unplugged.
Announcer: Boston, like any other city, has its share of dummies.
But not only are these kids stupid, they talk funny.
My grandfather is not senile! Announcer: They're known as southies because they live in South Boston.
They just scored some beer from the "packie," what southies call a liquor store.
They're about to get wasted by playing a drinking game called Edward 40 hands.
The game is played by taping a 40-ounce beer to each hand and not stopping till both are empty.
$50 to the winner.
The thing with Edward 40 hands is, it's about having a good time and ultimately getting your friends as drunk as possible.
But it really comes down to bladder size.
Your bladder's not meant to hold 80 ounces of liquid, so you're likely to see someone pee their pants.
And I'm not proud to say, I've seen that go down quite a few times.
Hey, I'm beating all of you.
Announcer: The southies were getting their beer on when one of them drunkenly spit his lit stogie onto the floor.
It rolled under a couch, and their drinking game took a serious turn.
Dude, what's going on? - Holy Christmas.
- The couch is on fire! Stomp it out, dude! Announcer: The cigar made contact with the highly-flammable couch stuffing and in less than a minute Stomp it out, dude, stomp it out! Announcer: It turned their funhouse into a gas chamber.
Did you get it? Older couches from the 1960s and '70s had a lot of synthetic materials Plastics, polyurethane.
And when those burned, they produced hydrogen cyanide gasses.
They haven't really been able to replace everything to make it 100% safe.
Announcer: This was bad.
Their starting point was stupid.
Use your teeth! Announcer: And then they got really drunk and wound up breathing in lungfuls of toxic smoke.
I can't open it! Announcer: They were on a slippery slope into the death pit.
[Shouting.]
[All coughing.]
A small amount of hydrogen cyanide in just a few parts per million could kill someone because it's so rapidly absorbed into the respiratory system.
And if you have a large dose, it can kill someone in less than a minute.
Announcer: When the smoke cleared, Boston had four less dummies.
Somebody call 911! Announcer: [Boston accent.]
Hey, why don't you southies park your car in the parky parking lot? You're dead.
During World War II, the Germans did whatever they could to obtain intelligence against the U.
S.
That included using amateur spies, like Max.
Max was a U.
S.
citizen, but he sympathized with the Nazis.
He was here to meet his contact for his first spy mission.
One last thing about Max It's cold this time of year.
Announcer: He was an idiot.
You kiddin'? It's beautiful out here.
German espionage in the United States was prevalent during World War II.
The information getting back to Germany, um, typically was late or it was inaccurate information.
One of the main problems with being a spy is it's difficult to know who you can talk to and who you can't talk to, because your typical sentence after being caught is death.
Announcer: His phony German accent and inquiries about the weather were getting him off to a slow start.
Excuse me.
Is it cold this time of year? - No.
- No.
It's not.
I agree.
It is rather cold.
Oh.
Announcer: Finally, he made contact.
The chances that Max had anything of value were slim.
I'll show you pictures.
Places I've been.
Announcer: But even a moron could stumble onto something useful.
Very good.
Very nice.
Announcer: His spy meeting over, Maxwell stupid headed out.
But then, his worst nightmare.
Hey! Hey you! Hey, wait a minute! Announcer: His cover was blown.
Hey! Hey! Wait a minute.
Announcer: Rather than getting caught, Max played the good spy and swallowed some cyanide pills he had gotten his hands on.
[Groaning.]
Announcer: But he jumped the gun.
His American counterpart was just a do-gooder trying to return his notebook.
Cyanide can confuse the body.
Effectively, it can get stuck in what we call the mitochondria, which creates energy for the body.
When potassium cyanide is picked up by the mitochondria, it shuts down the metabolic pathway.
So within seconds to minutes, the cyanide can start causing its poisoned effects, and you die because there's no more energy available.
Announcer: Max was a traitor who deserved to die.
Hey, you! Announcer: In the end, he did his country a favor by doing himself in.
Hey! Announcer: Danke schoen.
Dummkopf.
There's a reason why video games make more money than movies.
They are as addictive as crack.
Garth was a game junkie whose only reality was virtual.
He lived for online tournaments with dozens of like-minded geeks.
Attention, noobs and noobettes.
I'm gonna knock all of you out.
Ah! Ha ha ha! Announcer: The games can go on for days at a time.
[Laser firing.]
Online tournaments for games work like this.
You pick your game, you pick your category of game.
Say death match or capture the flag.
Then you either compete by yourself or with a team.
Goin' down, Leventhal! Yeah, that all you got, Garth? An average gamer will only play maybe ten to 15 hours a week.
However, a hard core gamer may play 30 hours or more a week.
[Roars.]
Announcer: Garth didn't want to miss one second of the action.
- Pizza delivery.
- Yeah, yeah.
Put it on my tab.
Announcer: He had a steady stream of junk food delivered Mmm.
Announcer: And for his bathroom needs, an empty bottle took care of number one, and a specially-designed bucket seat took care of what came out the other end.
Come on.
Announcer: This tournament had taken on the feeling of a death match.
After 52 hours, Garth's bad diet and worse hygiene produced body sores, but he didn't care.
He eliminated all of his opponents.
Argh! Announcer: Everyone except Tina.
Noobzorz.
I don't know why you keep running from me, you stupid girl.
Oh, you don't like being beat by a girl? Announcer: If he could beat her, Garth would be the highest-ranked player in the world.
Somehow, Tina stayed cool as a cucumber.
While Garth looked like a big zit about to burst.
Finally, Tina took him down.
Suck it! Suck it! You just got powned! Announcer: Garth was devastated.
After 60 straight hours of nonstop gaming, Garth stood up.
Stupid girl! [Groans.]
Announcer: And dropped Like someone had just pulled the plug on his avatar.
Garth was a goner.
Our video game player sat for such a long time and developed such massive clots in his veins in his legs, that when he stood up, they broke free and floated up to his heart and to his lungs.
And within a matter of a few seconds, there was enough blood that was coagulated in his lungs that he couldn't breathe.
And his heart probably stopped within a few minutes after that and caused him to die.
Announcer: Garth ruined his health and sacrificed his life by living in a virtual fantasy world.
Gonna knock all of you out.
You just got powned! Stupid girl! Announcer: Too bad his wake-up call [Groans.]
Announcer: Was his own death.
Game over, Garth.
- Up next - Watch the corner.
Announcer: If you gotta move, don't hire these guys.
And You are so beautiful.
Announcer: Bad art can make for a good death.
Watch the door.
Announcer: At its best, moving can be one of life's worst experiences.
Surrendering one's precious valuables to strangers is traumatizing.
[Laughing.]
Careful with that first chair.
Lady, we got this.
Announcer: But these two losers are in a class by themselves.
Dickie and Donny bill themselves as starving students.
But they were just two ex-cons looking to rip people off.
Dickie spots a nice piece of antique crystal.
And makes it disappear.
Ex-cons are hired by moving companies all the time.
Um, they're big guys, they're burly.
All they've been doing in jail is been eating starches and mashed potatoes, and just bulking up and lifting weights, push-ups or whatever the do.
If they see an item they like, they'll take it.
Announcer: Finally, they had one last piece to hump.
Watch the corner.
Announcer: A heavy, hard-to-handle armoire.
Careful, careful, careful, careful, guys.
[Engine starts.]
Announcer: After this, pawn the crystal, and off to the racetrack.
Whoa! [Squish.]
He was immediately pancaked, and this sharp crystal object laying directly over the heart would penetrate through the sternum, through the lungs, into the right ventricle, cause hemorrhaging into the heart, causing death in seconds.
Announcer: Dickie and Donny were movers with larceny in their veins.
Careful with that.
Announcer: They robbed their clients blind, but then Donny Forgot Dickie.
Whoa! Announcer: And now Dickie Oh, my God.
Announcer: Is deadie.
There's a lot of ways to get women in bed.
One of the oldest and best [French accent.]
You are so beautiful.
Announcer: Pretend you're an artist.
Um, maybe take off your dress.
Give me a little bit more playful, you know.
Announcer: Say hello to monsieur amnesia.
[Speaking French.]
Announcer: The French accent is phony.
A three-year-old can draw better.
I love it.
Announcer: But this poser gets more action than a porn star.
So that's it? The exit is over there on the right.
Art has such a broad, boundaryless sort of category in and of itself that I think that it does lend itself to fakers.
And in this case, reap the attention of would-be suitors.
Anybody can piece anything together and call yourself an artist.
Announcer: Mr.
amnesia thought he could sweet talk any woman into bed.
I want you to imagine you are flying through the air, you know? Then you can just feel everything around you just Okay, okay.
Oh! No, no, no.
Announcer: And he did not like to be turned down.
[Shouting in French.]
Announcer: In a rage, he lashed out at his worthless sculpture.
Turns out his latest work of art, which he found in a junkyard, was something called a butterfly bomb.
Butterfly bombs spread sharp shards of metal for about 25 yards around.
When the artist hit the bomb, it would trigger the fuse, and set the bomb off immediately.
It will kill anybody within about 25 yards of it.
Announcer: It's the age-old battle of the sexes.
You are so beautiful.
Announcer: Men will do whatever it takes to bed down the babe-a-licious beauties of the world.
Feel everything Hey, oh! No, no, no.
Announcer: Mr.
amnesia just used the wrong weapon.
And wound up Killed in action.

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