Drunk History (2013–…): Season 1, Episode 6 - Detroit - full transcript

[patriotic music]

- Dr. John Kellogg says,

oh, you should see
the corn flakes we're making.

We're making our own cereal.

And Will is saying, oh, no.

I'm not talking right
altogether.

- Uh, Nader, boss... Ralph Nader.

He's like, well,
this is all fucked up.

And why shouldn't there
be safety belts?

So many people would be safer.

- And Houdini said, hey!
Fuck you!



I'm Houdini!

I'm not that guy you just saw.

- Oh, my God.

I have to puke.

♪♪

[folk music]

- Why do I love Detroit?

Because it's lawless.

[stammers]
And you, and... and you know,

it maybe come around
to bite your ass in the ass,

'cause your window
got broken out

and that sucks, and it does,

and you go through
some hard times.

But the lawlessness is great,



'cause you can just
ride your bike to work

drinking a beer,
just like you're in New Orleans,

where you're allowed to.

But you can do that here too.

It's off the chain.
It's gonna be amazing.

I love Michigan.

Michigan, that's what's up.

Everyone in Detroit,

Judas Priest is better
than Iron Maiden,

and Iron Maiden is the shit.

- Hi.
- What did you bring?

- I brought you this.

- Oh, scotch.
- As a thank you.

How are you?

Obviously, I love him.

I'm guessing that's a him.
- I don't...

I mean, I don't know.
- Yeah.

- All right, let's do it!

Come on!
- Okay, yeah.

Hey, I'm ready, so let's just...

- [growling] I wanna do it!
- So let's just start.

- Hello, I am Paget Brewster,

and today we are going to talk
about the Kellogg brothers.

In 1876, Dr. John Kellogg

created a sanitarium

in Battle Creek, Michigan.

Except he was an orator

in the Seventh-Day
Adventist Church.

He tells his patients,

no sex, no meat, no alcohol,

no sugar, no, uh,
anything, uh, prurient

or sensual.

Shit!

Aren't you guys tired?

Pssht!

- Well, can I...
- Shh!

- All right.

- He tells his patients,
you need to take

at least two solid, ropy poops

per day.

In 1880,

Dr. John reaches out
to his younger brother, Will,

who he beat up the whole time
he was growing up,

and he says, hey, um,

leave that broom company.

I've got this, you know,
sanitarium, spa thing.

There's over 1,000 people a week

here, hanging out...

swimming and doing stuff.

You should just come
and, you know,

help me out with everything.

And Will says, okay, I gotta
get the fuck out of here.

Will is just sort of
this sad little whipping boy

for big, famous brother John.

He actually said,

"I use my brother
as a foot warmer in the winter."

I don't even know
what that means.

Like, he beat him up,
and he stuck his feet under him?

So anyway, he has to shave him.

He actually
has to call his own brother

"Dr. Kellogg"...

and has to run the kitchen

and has to run the books.

So Dr. John tells
his younger brother Will,

hey, make something
that people would want to eat

because no one wants
vegetarian food.

So you do this, 'cause I'm busy.

I gotta, you know,
do lectures and stuff.

So Will,

whose bookkeep...
Bookkeeping "oppice"... office

is next to the kitchen...

One night, he's trying to make

this stupid vegetarian shit.

He leaves the dough out.

He comes in the next morning,

and the dough
that he left out has molded.

And he's like, oh, God damn it,

this shit is moldy.

Fuck it.
I'm on a budget.

And he puts it
through the grinder anyway,

and the small amount of mold
made that dough flakes.

Corn flakes!

And he's like, hol... Oh, shit.

Oh, we made... I made a cereal.

So he tells John,
John comes down.

Oh, you know.

And then they start
producing this cereal,

corn flakes.

Like, corn flakes
that we all know...

That Will discovered.
With mold.

One week, C.W. Post,
this industrialist, is visiting,

and John says,

oh, you should see
the corn flakes we're making.

We're making our own cereal.

And Will is saying,

oh, no, don't.

I made... I made that.

Don't... you say...

And...

[choir sings a dramatic chord]

Oh, oh.

I'm not talking right
altogether,

but close enough.

C.W. Post steals it,
sells it,

makes a million dollars.

So Will's like, fuck you, man.

You fucked me!
You fucked us!

If we add sugar,
we can sell this cereal.

And John says,
you can't put sugar on it.

That's not
Seventh-Day Adventist.

Who do you think you are?

Will says, oh, you know...

You know who I think I am?

I think I'm the guy who invented
fucking corn flakes.

I'm gonna put sugar on 'em
and sell 'em.

And fuck you.

So he takes his cereal,
and he sets up

the Kellogg
Toasted Flakes Company.

Will makes it
a million-dollar enterprise.

And he's like,
I'm putting sugar on my shit.

Fuck you.

Will wins the name
in federal court.

I'm gonna burp.
- It's okay.

- I hope it's just a burp.

- Let's see this closet.

- All right.

- All these heads,
they freak me out.

Yeah, and then the deer.
- Well, sorry.

- Now, I do have to ask...
[laughs]

about this pulp fiction.
- Yes.

I just...
Your beak is touching my...

- You want me
to help you with that?

- This is oddly intimate.

Would you take off
all your clothes...

- Yes.

- And put on
my grandmother's halston?

- Is it weird?
- You actually look... no.

- Do you feel like
you're looking at your grandma?

- No, not at all.
- You don't? Okay.

- The younger brother,
now, finally comes out

of his older brother's shadow

and becomes a huge
American industrialist.

The brothers sue each other
back and forth

for ten years.

I want the name of Kellogg's.

I want the name of Kellogg's.

No, I deserve it, I made the...

Whatever.

So Will, this younger brother,

wins the name in federal court.

I'm gonna burp.

- It's okay.

- I hope it's just a burp.

Will is a huge industrialist
in the United States.

He invents a bunch of cereals.

Meanwhile,
John loses all credibility.

In 1943,

John is on his deathbed.

He writes
to his younger brother,

having not spoken
for the past 20 years,

and he gave it
to his social secretary

or whatever... he had no family.

His only family was Will.

She never sent it.

But Will, eight years later...

Also dying, blind...

Was told, on his deathbed,

your brother wrote a letter

eight years ago
saying, "I'm sorry.

"I screwed up.
I apologize.

"I treated you as a lesser man

when in fact,
I was the lesser man."

Essentially,
that's what he said.

I read it,
but I can't remember entirely.

But that's essentially
what he said.

Sorry.

Will sat up on his deathbed
and said, good God!

Why didn't anyone tell me
about this before now?

And he died!

That's just awful.
- Yeah.

- That's the fucking worst.

[munching]

Um, yeah, but... right?

- Yeah.
- Like, Will was right.

You want to put
some sugar on 'em.

- Yeah.
It is lacking sugar.

- Otherwise, it's just mold.

- Yeah.
- Mold flakes.

I'm good.

- Ralph Nader.

The Ralph Nader

is responsible
for seat belts in cars?

- He had the idea
to put them in there.

- Well, then God bless him.

- Ralph Nader.
- Cheers to Ralph Nader!

Keepin' us all safe!
He's a good guy.

- I don't know, actually,
what the, uh...

When they do public
"intoclate"... intoxication.

- What's... what's the...
- [snickers]

- How illegal is it
to be drunk in your home?

Can you be so drunk in your home
that it's illegal?

Hi.

Today we're gonna talk
about Ralph Nader.

He was a Harvard graduate,
super egghead.

It was, like, 1965.

Cars were just, like,
psychosexual dreamboats.

But, like,
there wasn't seat belts.

At the time, like,
the car industry,

they made a weird stand
against safety.

Well, how about we give 'em
an option of seat belts or not?

Yeah, but I gotta call the guy,
and he's gotta make...

You know,
we gotta buy the nylon,

and someone's gotta design
the buckles,

and it's a whole thing.

So anyways, so there's,
like, no safety shit.

And then, like, Ralph Nader,
I guess, had a friend,

who he was saying, like,
that's weird.

Shouldn't there be some kind
of option of trying to...

Couldn't I strap myself
into the car?

The car flipped over,
and his friend was paralyzed.

I'll call him his paralyzed pal.

I guess through a "cursorair"...

Cursory investigation
of safety practices, he's like,

well, this is all fucked up.

And why shouldn't there
be safety belts?

It seems like, you know,

so many people would be safer.

So he wrote the book
Unsafe at Any Speed,

which put heat on,
uh, General Motors.

So their tactic was to, like,

go get Ralph Nader
in a compromising position.

Apparently, he shops for food

at the supermarket
by where he lives.

Gotcha.
All right, yeah.

So Nader goes
to the supermarket.

You send a couple
of those broads over.

And then they got, like,

weird, salacious
Barbara Eden types...

I Dream of Jeannie...

To approach him
at this supermarket.

You know, Say, mister.

Wanna go for a ride?

Wanna go for a ride in the car?

You wanna go for a ride
in the car?

We'll go in the car.

We'll go around
the whole neighborhood.

Nader's like,
well, this seems odd.

I'm a dork.

There's no way this,
you know, Kim Novak,

huge-breasted woman,
come up to me.

I'm too smart for that.

Something's wrong.

It's gotta be something
to do with General Motors.

[dramatic music]

So he tipped off newspapers
and such to be like,

Hey, I'm being, you know,
harassed like this.

The whole thing blew up for GM.

There's senate hearings
where it's like,

you... you guys did this?

Yeah, you caught us, I guess.

I guess we did it.

And they had to, like,
publicly apologize,

which just... just cracks me up,
but it happened.

A public apology to Ralph Nader

over trying to, like...
[laughs]

blackmail him with...
[laughs]

broads at the supermarket.
[laughs]

We, members of, uh,
General Motors,

apologize to you, Ralph Nader.

They fucking paid him almost
a $1/2-million settlement.

He used that money
to start to finance

a group called, like,
uh, the Nader Raiders.

Was that the name of it?
- Was it the "Raider Naders"?

Or the...
- Nader Raiders.

"Raider Naders" would be
people that raided Naders.

It was an army of intellectuals

that sought out injust...
Injustices

about, you know,
corporate evils.

And they were really,
like, instrumental

in starting, like, even OSHA.

Safe Water Drinking Act,
wasn't it?

Freedom of Information Act.

Huge touchstones
that are, like, super important.

People think that Ralph Nader
is just the guy

that blew the election for Gore,

and he's just, like,
so much more.

Yeah, original, like,
nerd warrior.

Hi, Bober.

What a good dog.

There is a moment
where I sic him on all of you.

[patriotic music]

- Houdini said, really?

Houdini, shut the fuck up.
Just quiet down.

I know you're skeptical.
Let's just do this.

- I guess you get
a certain amount of pride

from it being such
a negative place, in a way.

There's a perverse
kind of pride.

I guess you always love
where you're from,

but you're like,
is that fucking stupid?

But sometimes, like,
it is a magical place.

- Why I really love Detroiters...
You gotta go with the spirit.

Nine times out of ten,
people count us out.

But nobody ever gives up here.

Nobody ever gives up.

- [sighs]

[whispering]
One, two, three, four...

Hello, everybody!

I'm here to talk about Houdini

and his fight
against spiritualism

with Sir Arthur Conan Doyle.

[dramatic music]

After World War I,

everyone was obsessed
with spiritualism.

They felt that religious bits
and scientific bits

worked together
and made spiritualism.

Harry Houdini,

the greatest magician
escape artist of all time.

Houdini knew spiritualism
was bullshit

because he had done it himself,
when he started out.

He'd send his wife ahead of him,

and she was like,
I'm a Bible salesman.

Look, our Bibles are better
than your Bible.

And through the information
that she would give him,

he could pretty much tell,
like, oh, so, your uncle,

who had a mustache,

or your so-and-so that
had this and that, whatever.

Those people,
they're like... [gasps]

He knows exactly
what I'm talking about.

Oh, my God.
Yeah, he knows.

Houdini
and Sir Arthur Conan Doyle

became good friends.

Sir Arthur Conan Doyle,
he wrote Sherlock Holmes...

and all that stuff.

Arthur Conan Doyle, he was like,

spiritualism is the shit!

I love it!

This is how everything
needs to happen.

This is...
Whatever this religion is,

this needs...
Everyone needs to know this.

Houdini held his tongue.
He knew it was bullshit.

Sir Arthur Conan Doyle was like,

I want you to sit down
and have this seance,

and I have...
My wife is going to speak

your mother's words
through handwriting.

Really?

Houdini, shut the fuck up.

Just quiet down.

I know you're skeptical.
Let's just do this.

The... one, two, three, four...

Sir Arthur Conan Doyle,
his wife was like, yay!

We're all here.
We're doing this seance.

Let's speak to Houdini's mother.

So then what happened?

Oh!

My son, I'm so happy
to speak to you!

Oh, this is so wonderful!

Oh, thank God for you
and Sir Arthur Conan Doyle!

Mr. Sherlock...

Okay, well, mother, um...

can you read my mind?

[laughs]

I've always read my son's mind.

This is... this is great!

Uh, um, yes.
[wand clatters]

I... sorry I dropped that wand.

But, yes, I'm gonna put
a cross on top of this thing.

She wrote a cross
on the top of the thing.

Mrs. Houdini was Jewish.

After Sir Arthur Conan Doyle
and his wife

fucked him over,
he realized that...

who he... one, two, three, four...

He became angry.
He's like, fuck.

I'm going to falsify
every fucking spiritualist

that I come across.

Houdini would go around
in disguise

to every spiritualist medium
that he could find

and would discredit 'em,

like, I wanna talk
about my dead son.

And the spiritualist was like,

oh, well, your son
is so-and-so and doing this.

And he's like, hey!
Fuck you!

I'm Houdini!

I'm not that guy
you just thought.

Fuck off.

- [whispering] One, two, three.

All right,
so what do you wanna know?

- What was
the "one, two, three"?

Where did that...
Where did you start doing that?

- [laughs]

I do it so when I know...
Like, when I'm too drunk...

One, two, three...

That I can be... [laughs]

That I can be good to myself,
which is not working,

but it's fine.

So near the end of his career,

Houdini went
into a college town.

One of the college students
came through and was like,

hey, so I hear that you
can take any punch in the world.

He was like, yes, I can.
Whatever, yeah.

I can take whatever punch
you fucking want.

Okay, well,
I wanna test this out.

Thing is, Houdini needs
to, like, stretch his muscles.

He didn't have enough time
to do that.

The kid just fucking
punches him right there.

And he's like, okay.
This fucking sucks.

[belches]

I have to put on a fucking show,

because I'm Houdini.

I have to put on my fucking show
for my tour.

He goes onstage
and does his show.

104 temperature.

He's fucking terrible.

One guy who'd seen his show
eight times was like,

something's wrong.

After the first act,
he passes out.

They revive him.

He goes through.
He does the second act.

After the second act,
he passes out again.

So his wife's like, you need
to go to the hospital.

Your appendix has ruptured.

At the same time that Houdini
was against spiritualism,

he still asked his wife Bess,

if I die, I want you
to hold a seance every year.

If, during the seance,
these words come through

and whatnot,
then you know that it's me.

If not, fuck you.
It's someone else.

He passes out again.
They revive him.

[retching]

- So do you feel better?

- I feel 100% better.

Show must go fucking on.

He does the third act.
Shit happens.

After a while... I mean,
he's in complete agony.

He's... his, you know, bile...

Everything's coming out
of his appendix.

Everything's going wrong.

It's obviously too late
for him to deal with it.

He died in Detroit,
uh, on Halloween.

Sir Arthur Conan Doyle
was like, it sucks he died.

People think
it's because of the punch.

Truthfully,
the doctor said like,

you know what?
He already had appendicitis.

So it's fine.

For ten years, on Halloween,
they would have the seance,

and they would be there like,
oh, Houdini,

if you can break through...

It didn't happen.

Houdini's wife Bess is like,
you know what?

He's lived on
for all these many years,

but ten years is long enough
to wait for any man.

So I have to extinguish
his light.

I apologize.

They still do a seance to see
if he can break through,

and he still has not.

- What's your name?
- Hi, my name is Secrets.

Pardon me.
[snickers]

[both laughing]

- Very subtle.

- Oh! Look at me!

I'm a "magi-shurans"!

[laughter]

[patriotic music]

♪♪

- You got it.
- You got it, baby!

Come on!
- You got it!

[cheering]
- Yeah! What?

- Whoo!

- They're all hacks!

It's easy as balls!

[cheers and applause]

- Easy as balls.
- Yay!