Doug Smith – Stabbed in the Face – This Is Not Happening – Uncensored

– 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.

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