By Scott Brown
Updated May 08, 2006 at 02:00 PM EDT

David Blaine (pictured), currently preparing to drown in tank outside of Lincoln Center, appears to be shriveling.

What will be left to drown tonight? SPOILER ALERT! Probably something about the size of a California raisin. Blaine will then be harvested, placed in a box with lesser-known pruned magicians, and sold at a local deli for $1.45. He will make his progress through the gastrointestinal system of young Timmy Weigert of Tenafly, N.J. He will be broken down and eventually returned to the earth, as nutrients. These nutrients will be eaten by a baleen whale, which will be renamed a Blaine Whale, in the magician’s memory. The whale will go on talk shows and release a cookbook. Eventually, it will be forgotten, and die alone in a big house in the Hollywood Hills, surrounded by sycophants and suckerfish, wistfully reminiscing about the she-whale it abandoned (with calf) back in the Atlantic — the only she-whale who ever really loved him. The whale will go to the kitchen (this is hard for a whale, the doors are small) and turn on the gas. As quietly as he came, the whale will leave this world. At that moment, David Blaine will pop out and yell, “Ta-da!”

But, by then, will America still care?

Please, David Blaine: Don’t drown yourself.

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