No, of course not. In fact, now that they’ve removed Aunt Jemima from the syrup bottle, these two probably won’t even see a woman for months at a time.
But I digress. The point is this, if you think asking someone to “name a card that represents themselves” is in any manner a fooling way to limit their choice, then good news, you don’t even need this trick. Just roll up a Queen of Hearts, put it in a marker, perform for a lady, and you’ll hit more often than not.
The other problem is asking someone to name a card that “represents themselves” makes zero sense in the context of the routine. If you asked them to name a card that represented themselves and that card appeared in a picture frame that previous held their picture, that would at least make some sense. But what is the logic here?
“Name a card that represents yourself.”
“Uhm… the Jack of Clubs.”
“Yes. Yes… And haven’t you always sort of felt in some way that you—that your essence—has been trapped inside of a marker?”
So just use equivoque. All you need is to get them into the court cards and then it’s free choices all the way after that. I’ll give you the wording I would use in a moment, but first…
The Premise
The other issue with this trick is the premise.
If you showed the marker empty and then the thought of card appeared inside, that would be a magic trick.
If the marker wrote one moment and then the next moment it didn’t, and the card was found inside, that too would be a magic trick.
But in this case, the card in the marker is just a needlessly complicated place for you to keep your prediction. The impossibility of the trick itself is no different than if your prediction was on the table in front of you. So what’s the point?
There isn’t one really, but if you build it up a little presentationally, then you can at least add some cohesiveness to the plot.
Imagine I used a forcing pad or something like that to force the words “bowling ball” on you. Then I said, “open the refrigerator and look inside.” And inside was a bowling ball. You might be amazed, but the trick would feel disconnected. Why was it in the refrigerator?
Now, imagine this. You walk in the living room and there’s a gallon of milk on an end table. “Why is the milk out?” you ask.
“Oh,” I say, “I needed to make room for something in the refrigerator.”
Later I force “bowling ball” on you and we open the refrigerator and there it is.
Revealing the ball there is still illogical, but it’s also satisfying in some way because it answers a question (Why was the milk removed from the refrigerator?).
And by answering a question and creating a full-circle moment, you kind of get some of the same benefits you would if the trick made logical sense.
So, with this effect, I think introducing the non-working Sharpie early on is better than doing it seconds before the reveal. That way the card appearing there isn’t completely arbitrary. “Ah, that’s why the marker wouldn’t write earlier.” It feels like a missing piece of the puzzle that you hinted at earlier, rather than just the card appearing in a completely random location.
How I Would Do This
I’m not planning on doing this trick. But if I were to, this is sort of the direction I’d go with it.
On the table is a card box and a marker.
“There’s this great trick I learned with a marker and a deck of cards. Unfortunately, I just can’t do it right now. So I’m going to have you imagine yourself doing the trick. And it’s still going to amaze you.”
This opening does a few things. First, it creates a little mystery that is at least mildly intriguing. Why can’t I just do the trick with this deck and marker in the real world? Why are they here if I’m not using them for the trick? How am I going to amaze them with something that happens in their imagination?
Second, it puts the marker in play as an important piece in the “first act.”
“The trick is pretty cool. Imagine this: Anything that gets drawn on with the marker disappears. So what happens is, you draw a line on 51 of the cards, causing them all to vanish completely. Then you snap your fingers and the remaining card disappears from the table and reappears in a completely impossible location.”
“So, as I said, we’re going to do the same trick, but just in your imagination. And you’ll still be amazed.
“The first thing we have to do is vanish 51 of the cards completely. We’ll do that in stages.”
The Equivoque
“To start, which do you prefer, the picture cards or the number cards?”
This is a type of equivoque I wrote about in The Jerx, Volume 1. It’s something I use a lot. It’s a perfectly normal English sentence. But it has two important words in it, and depending on how they answer the question, I will emphasize one of the words going forward, giving the sentence one of two different meanings.
Here the important words are “start” and “prefer.”
So I say, “To start, which do you prefer, the picture cards or the number cards?”
This can have two potential meanings. It can mean, “Tell me if you’d rather start the process of making cards disappear by vanishing the picture cards or number cards.” Or it can mean, “To start the process of making cards disappear, first tell me which group you prefer.” And then it makes sense that you would proceed in such a way that the final card remaining would come from the group they prefer.
So let’s play out the two scenarios:
Option A
“To start, which do you prefer, the picture cards or the number cards?”
“The number cards.”
“Okay, we’ll start with those. I want you to imagine I’m spreading the number cards across the table, and then I want you to imagine drawing a line along the cards. And—having been touched by that ink—every number card vanishes.'“
Option B
“To start, which do you prefer, the picture cards or the number cards?”
“The picture cards.”
“You prefer the picture cards? Okay, then we don’t need the number cards. In your imagination just draw a line along the row of number cards and see that magic ink causing the number cards to vanish.”
(I would likely give her the marker at this point in order to pantomime along with the process.)
From that point on, the selection process is free and the same regardless of how they started…
“Now we have three piles left here. The jacks, queens and king. Decide which one you want to get rid of and draw a line through those cards.
“Now we have the jacks and queens. Again, decide which ones you want to make vanish and draw a line along those cards in your imagination.
“So, just the jacks remain. I’ll split the jacks into red jacks and black jacks. Use the marker and make one of those pairs vanish.
“Finally, draw a line on either remaining jack. Leaving us just one card.
“Now, I want you to imagine snapping your fingers and the final card disappearing. But it doesn’t vanish completely like the other cards. It reappears in an unexpected place.
“And that’s what my trick looks like. Isn’t that a good trick? Are you amazed?”
They are either confused or gives a sarcastic, “Sure.”
“I get the sense that you don’t believe I can do that trick? I really can. And I would. I just don’t have a marker and a deck of cards.”
The other person notes the marker and cards on the table.
“Oh, those? Oh, I can’t use those. Because there are no cards in here.” I open the card case, showing it empty. “And there’s no ink in that marker.” I take the marker from her, uncap it, and draw on my hand, showing there’s no ink.
“You see, last night I took the deck that was in this box and this marker. And first I drew a line along all the number cards making them disappear. Just like you did. The Aces, the 2s, the 5s, the 8s—all the number cards— they just vanished completely.
“Then, like you, I drew a line along the kings making them disappear. Then the queens. Then I separated the jacks into black and red and vanished the red jacks. Then I drew a line on one of the remaining black jacks, causing it to vanish. That left me with just one final card. And I snapped my fingers and that card disappeared and jumped to an unexpected location.”
I slowly draw my attention to the marker and shake it a little. “I told you there was no ink in this marker, right?” I open the marker, showing the rolled up card. “Now, remember when you were down to the two black jacks? The club and the spade? You drew on one of them, causing it to disappear. Then you snapped your fingers causing the other card to jump to an unexpected place?
“What was the final card? The one that jumped to the unexpected place?”
They say the Jack of Spades.
I unroll the card showing the Jack of Spades. “Yeah, that’s how it worked with me too.”
___
What I like about this is that it’s no longer framed as a prediction, which we all have enough of. And it’s not really a magic trick either. I mean, it is, but it’s not. They see the end-result of a magic trick that they just imagined. I think that’s an interesting way of framing the effect. And, as often happens with these posts, I may have just convinced myself to get this trick.