- She goes "Oh, my God.
You have a massive laceration on your face."
And I looked down, and there's just blood just cascading
down my face onto my jacket trickling onto my shoe,
and I go, "Is it bad?"
She goes, "It appears to be quite severe."
[dark electronic music]
- [indistinct shouting] - Huh? Huh? Huh? Huh?
- Come on. Move. Come on. - What? What's going on?
- Come on. - This is not happening.
[rapid gunfire]
No, no. What...
I'm--I'm your host.
I'm your host, Roy Wood Jr.
- Come on.
- Ahh, ahh.
- Augh!
- [groans]
[glass shattering]
[panting]
♪ ♪
Mm...ahh!
[bones crunching]
[cheers and applause]
- He's the creator of the web series "Secret Weapon."
He is Doug Smith.
[cheers and applause]
- I am going to tell you a story about the only fight
that I've ever been in in my entire life.
And it's important to keep in mind that prior to this,
the closest I had ever come was a pillow fight
when I was eight year old against my best friend.
And you'd like I would have won that,
because he was the nosebleed kid.
You guys know these kids, right?
They have blood gushing out of their head
with no warning whatsoever.
Like, we'd be standing there waiting for the school bus.
He'd bend down to tie his shoe.
He's stand up looking like he just went on a coke bender.
It was so bad my mom wouldn't even let him in the house,
which was weird growing up with an indoor cat
and an outdoor friend, but that's...
[laughter]
That's the way it had to be.
So we're eight years old.
We're jumping on his bed, pillows in hand.
We whack each other at the exact some moment.
His nose just erupts.
But I find out that I am deathly allergic
to goose down.
So he's got blood all over the comforter.
I'm laid out on the bed with my eyes swollen shut
gasping for air.
We're both screaming for help.
[laughter]
My throat closes up.
My dad has to rush me to the emergency room.
I've never seen him more embarrassed in his life,
by the way.
Doctor comes in, he was like, "What happened to him?"
"He was in a fight." "What kind of fight?"
"I don't see why that's important."
[laughter]
Definitely not a big confidence-booster
when you find out that your kryptonite is feathers,
you know, so...
So cut to 20 years later,
I still have a shameful 0 and 1 record.
I'm in the East Village of Manhattan.
It's about 10:00 on a Thursday night.
I just bought some weed, and I'm headed home to Brooklyn.
So I go down the stairs of the Second Avenue F Train station.
And as I swipe my card, I hear a woman screaming.
Now, if you live in a small town,
that might be a cause for concern,
but in a city of 8 million people,
some of them are gonna be screaming.
[laughter]
It's pretty much par for the course.
So I casually look over, and I see a petite young blonde
girl, early 20s, and holding her from behind
is a guy about my build, maybe mid-30s,
and it's getting a little rough, but I'm like,
"Eh, maybe--is he doing the Heimlich maneuver?"
But you can't scream while you're choking,
and also, he has one hand on her breast.
The other hand is moving between her legs.
His form is terrible.
[laughter]
And I think maybe--maybe this is a couple into
some aggressive foreplay, anything I can do
to justify not getting involved, right?
And then he grabs her by the blouse,
whips her against a wall, hauls off,
punches her in the face, clobbers her.
She is now sobbing.
He's trying to rip her pants off.
And I'm like, "You know what?
I don't think they're together."
[laughter]
"I think this guy is a rapist.
"Someone's got to stop this guy.
Not gonna be me, of course, but somebody."
And now he grabs her by the throat,
slams her head against the wall,
and no one is doing anything.
He hits her again.
I'm like, "Shit.
I've got to be that guy."
So I yell out the most threatening thing
I can think of, which unfortunately is,
"Hey, buddy, that's a lady."
[laughter]
Imagine if that's all it took, if he was like, "Oh, my God.
"It is a lady.
This is..."
[laughter]
"That's the last time I'll leave the house
without my glasses."
[laughter]
So as you can imagine, it has no effect,
and he hauls off to hit her again,
and I just fuckin' Hulk out.
I go, "Come on, let's go!"
Which is a pretty big jump from,
"Hey, buddy, that's a lady," right?
Could have gone with, "Pick on someone your own size"
or, "I'm telling."
[laughter]
But it gets his attention, and as he turns to look at me,
she pries his hand off her throat,
bolts through the turnstile, flies up the stairs,
runs out of the station.
She's gonna be okay.
But then I turn back to him, and he is pissed.
I don't know if you guys have ever cock-blocked
a rapist before...
[laughter]
But they do not take too kindly to it.
So he's just staring me down with these steely blue eyes.
And I've got to tell you, under normal circumstances,
beautiful eyes, but...
Right now, they're just cold and terrifying.
And I'm taking full inventory of his physical appearance.
I'm like, "All right, 5'10", 160."
I want to be able to give a detailed description
to the police when I wake from my medically induced coma.
[laughter]
So he takes his first step toward me
and very calmly goes, "What you gonna do, motherfucker?"
And part of me is tempted to try to talk my way
out of this, you know, and be like, "Hey, man,
"I didn't mean to interfere.
If you hurry, I'm sure you can catch up with her."
[laughter]
I'm tempted, but I don't do that.
I'm like, "All right, come fuckin'--this is your chance
to take this guy out," so I clinch my fist,
and I start yelling, "Back the fuck up, man.
Back the fuck up."
And I can tell you, that does not have much impact
when you yourself are fearfully backing up.
[laughter]
So I hit the opposing wall.
He's got me backed into a corner.
I got nowhere to go.
So I have no choice but to try to take this guy out.
So I take a deep breath, and I ready myself,
and I step in with a demolishing blow.
I'm just gonna lay this guy out.
And I may have if I wasn't still 8 feet away from him.
[laughter]
So there's this horrible moment where I just watch my fist
whiz past his face.
I'm like, "Nooo."
He steps in, clobbers me.
My knees buckle, but I don't go down.
I'm like, "All right, fisticuffs
"is not my strong suit.
"I'm gonna come back, kick this guy in the balls,
like I just completed a women's self-defense class."
[laughter]
So I step in, I swing,
he scoots back at the last second,
I miss his balls, but I get him in the stomach,
and here's what I know about my fighting style so far:
Way too polite, can't land a punch,
and when I kick someone, I make this sound.
I go....
[whimpers]
[laughter]
Not my proudest moment, but I make contact.
And he stumbles back, and he turns,
and he runs out of the station,
so now I'm feeling like hot shit.
I'm like, "I've got a powerhouse, Bruce Lee kick.
"I didn't back down. I took a punch.
He ran off. I think I finally won a fight."
Right? And more importantly,
I saved that woman.
I think I'm the first guy with a moustache to save a woman
from train tracks
rather than tie her to them.
So now I'm feeling invincible.
I'm about to get on the train and go home.
And this older woman stops me.
She goes, "Oh, my God.
You have a massive laceration on your face."
And I looked down, and there's just blood just cascading
down my face onto my jacket trickling onto my shoe,
and I go, "Is it bad?"
She goes, "It appears to be quite severe."
[laughter]
And my adrenaline's pumping, so I don't even feel any pain.
I just feel warmth, and I kind of, like,
replay everything in my head.
And I think, "Well, that guy was kind of holding his hand
"in a funny way.
"He didn't really punch me so much as, like, swing at me.
"There's blood everywhere.
"I did not get punched.
"I did not win a fight.
I just got stabbed in the face."
[laughter]
Now, I don't know about you guys, but when I get stabbed
by a stranger with a foreign object,
first thing that comes to mind, "Oh, my God.
Now I have AIDS."
[laughter]
I know that's not how it works.
You've got to share a glass of water, but right now...
[laughter]
Paranoia was taking hold of me, so I'm like, "Oh, my God,
"some spiteful psycho running around the city
"with an infected box cutter just filleted my face,
and now I just have AIDS coursing through my veins."
I think, "You know what?
Maybe it won't take hold if I'm bleeding it all out,"
so I actually lean over.
Like, "Go. Rid yourself.
Get out of me."
And the same woman, she goes, "What are doing?"
She reaches into her purse, grabs a wad of napkins,
slaps them on my face, 'cause, you know,
every woman over 30 has a surplus of purse napkins.
And she leave me up in the street, calls 911,
dozen cops on the scene within minutes.
They all want to see the cut.
So one after another I remove the napkins.
Each time, another pint of blood spurts out.
And they all have the same reaction.
They just go, "Ooh, put it back,
put it back, put it back."
[laughter]
So another cop rolls up, and he goes,
"Hey, do you mind if I see it?"
His partner goes, "You see this, man.
Just picture another one right next to it."
So all these cops are swarming around, and I remember,
"I've got that 1/4 ounce of weed in my backpack."
Now, this is New York.
This is not the weed-topia your burnouts are used to.
[laughter]
It's not like I'm gonna show the guy my medical card.
And he's like, "Oh, cool. I have one too, all right."
[laughter]
So justifiably, I'm freaking out.
And I feel this big mitt on my shoulder.
And I'm like, "Oh, my God. He can smell it.
I'm fucked. I'm going to jail."
He spins me around, and this detective goes, "Hey,
how's it feel to be a goddamn hero?"
And he reaches into his back pocket,
hands me his business card, and he goes,
"You ever need anything, you ever in a jam,
you call me; I got your back."
And I was like, "I may take you up on that
a little sooner than you think, sir."
[laughter]
So ambulance finally shows up.
I'm in the hospital. I'm getting stitched up.
And I listen to a lot of rap music.
I hear a lot of reference to a buck fifty.
And a buck fifty is a facial laceration that requires
150 stitches, and I don't know if you can see the scar
right here--right there. You see it?
You see it? [laughter]
A mere 23 stitches,
which has to make you wonder what kind of fucking
facial laceration
requires 150 st...
I think that's decapitation.
[laughter]
No need to be alarmed, sir.
We'll simply sew your head back on.
You'll be good to go.
So ten days later, I get my stitches out.
And I seem to be healing up nicely.
And that night, I'm brushing my teeth,
and I notice this clear liquid dripping out my scar.
And, "Oh, my God.
It was just residual goop. No big deal."
And it keeps up for a few days.
I go back to the doctor, and it turns out when this guy
cut me, he hit my salivary gland.
So I am now drooling out of the side of my face.
[laughter]
Not a little dribble, buckets of drool every time I see food.
Like, you put a plate of wings in front of me,
I'm just a slobbering Saint Bernard.
Which is ironic, because I'm a dog walker at the time,
so I'm just roaming the streets of New York
with a pack of dogs in tow.
They're looking at me like, "Oh, he's one of us now."
[laughter]
It was so bad I could push on the gland and shoot it
across the room, which too bad
I didn't have that at the time of the attack, right?
I'd be like, "Back the fuck up, man.
Don't make me do it."
So now I'm just feeling terrible.
This is just a misery.
Like, I should just run off and join
the Coney Island freak show.
I'll be the boy with the Super Soaker face.
[laughter]
So two weeks goes by, and it finally stops,
drooling stops, I go back to the doctor.
He's like, "All right, I think you're finally
"out of the woods.
"All you've got is that nifty-looking scar.
"Halloween's around the corner. Let me guess.
You're gonna go as the Joker."
And I was like, "Well, the Joker has a scar
"on both sides of his face, so unless I go out
and stop a left-handed rapist..."
[laughter]
"I don't know, man."
But it all has a happy ending.
I am fine, obviously.
It turns out he did not give me AIDS.
Had it all along.
[laughter]
Girl got away, and they actually caught the guy.
They caught the guy.
[cheers and applause]
Three days after the whole thing happened,
they found him running right outside the same station.
Remember I thought he was my age?
55-year-old drunk homeless man.
So 20 years old than me, looks, beautiful baby blues.
I got my ass kicked by the world's sexiest wino.
[laughter]
So he's currently in prison.
He got sentenced to 15 years of having a home.
[laughter]
And people ask me if I'm worried about him
coming after me when he gets out.
And it's like, "Well, he's gonna be 70 years old.
So unless he washes this in prison
and comes after me with a pillow...
[laughter]
Pretty sure that's a fight I can win, so wish me luck.
Thank you guys so much.
[cheers and applause]
- Doug Smith, everybody, Doug Smith.