I always wanted to be a magician. When I was young, I’d spend my allowance on the tricks you could buy in the bags in the glass case at the drugstore. My parents supported my dream. They bought me several books on magic, and all of them said the same thing: To be great, you have to put in countless hours of practice. Countless hours? I had better things to do.
When I sawed the box in half, the box with the woman in it, I figured the rest would take care of itself. Oh boy, are people mad at me.