Merlinus Magus the Magnificent

The lights at the Fool Us stage blazed to life, sweeping across the velvet curtain as Jonathan Ross’s voice echoed grand and regal:

“Ladies and gentlemen, prepare yourselves to be amazed! Please welcome… Merlinus Magus the Magnificent!”

The audience cheered, unsure whether the name was an ironic gimmick or not. A man in a deep purple tailcoat with a high collar strode onstage, his eyes twinkling behind round spectacles. His beard curled like a wizard’s, and he carried a staff—not a wand, a full-on wizard’s staff, silver inlaid with amethyst.

Penn leaned forward, curious. Teller gave a sidelong glance—curiosity piqued. The show had seen hundreds of magicians. Few came in wearing a literal wizard robe.

Merlinus gave a deep bow and then, in a crisp voice with a faint Welsh lilt, began: “For centuries, magicians have sought the secrets of the universe. Some studied under masters. Some read dusty tomes. Me? I learned from a guy in Vegas who could do coin rolls so fast, you'd think he had six fingers.”

Laughter rippled across the audience.

"But tonight," Merlinus continued, "I’d like to share with you something... ancient. A miracle dressed as a riddle."

He placed a table in the center of the stage. On it sat a deck of cards, a crystal orb, and a sealed wooden box with a rune carved into its lid. Then he turned to the judges.

“Penn, Teller—each of you, please think of a playing card. Don’t say it. Don’t write it. Just picture it.”

They nodded.

Merlinus looked directly at them. “Penn, I want you to imagine the color of your card spreading across the sky at sunrise. Teller, imagine yours folded into an origami crane, flying around the room.”

He then picked up the crystal orb. “Now! Let us consult…the Oracle!”

The lights dimmed. A spotlight hit the orb. Thunder rumbled through the speakers.

Merlinus whispered an incantation in what sounded like a mix of Latin and Welsh. The orb flickered with a soft inner glow. Then, with a dramatic flourish, he snapped his fingers.

The wooden box trembled. The rune on top began to shimmer.

He opened the box slowly.

Inside were two cards.

He turned them toward the camera. The Three of Hearts and the King of Spades.

Penn raised his eyebrows.

“That’s… exactly right,” he said. “Those were the cards we thought of.”

The audience erupted in applause.

Jonathan Ross came back on stage with a grin. “Now that was a reveal! Merlinus, you magnificent wizard, join us over here. Let’s see what our magical overlords think!”

Merlinus bowed again and walked over to the duo.

Penn leaned forward, a mischievous smile on his lips. “So, look, we’ve seen card reveals. We’ve seen sealed box routines. But what’s throwing us a little here is the combo of mentalism and classic illusion. We think you might’ve taken a page from a guy we know in Baltimore who used to do mnemonic deck work—I’m pretty sure you’re very well acquainted with our mutual friend… except this ain’t that.”

Merlinus nodded solemnly, as though receiving the words of an oracle himself.

Penn continued. “You made us think of cards, and you hit both. So we’re wondering: was the rune just theater? Are we looking at a pre-show method, or is this one of those ‘dual-reality’ tricks that get into your head when you least expect it?”

Merlinus tilted his head, smiled, and said: “Gentlemen, I believe a true illusion lies not in what you know, but in what you believe you knew.”

Penn laughed aloud. “All right, all right! That’s a magician’s answer if I ever heard one. We’re gonna say it… You fooled us, you rat bastard!”

The crowd burst into cheers. Teller clapped enthusiastically, stepping forward to shake Merlinus’s hand.

Jonathan signaled for the Fool Us trophy to be lowered down from the rafters.

“Merlinus Magus the Magnificent, you, sir, have just fooled Penn and Teller!”

After the Show

Backstage, Merlinus removed his glasses and robe, revealing a clean-cut man in his mid-30s. His real name: Kevin Morgan. Once a high school teacher with a passion for cardistry, he’d left it all behind to become a full-time illusionist. “Merlinus” was born on the streets of Edinburgh during a summer festival where Kevin had performed with a street troupe. His flair for theatrics was as sharp as his sleights.

Producer Lindsey came by with a clipboard. “Congrats, Kevin! That was amazing. How’d you pull it off? Off the record.”

Kevin smiled, dry. “Pre-show. But not in the way they think.”

She arched an eyebrow.

“They passed the box earlier today when they came to the green room. Teller touched it briefly. There’s a biometric scanner in the rune—coded to detect fingerprints. It was Teller’s.”

“And Penn?”

Kevin grinned. “A bit of verbal fishing backstage. I offered him coffee and asked if he wanted the ‘red mug or the black mug.’ He said red. I asked him to pick a number for cream. He said ‘three.’ That gave me Three of Hearts.”

Lindsey blinked. “That’s brilliant. Psychological force?”

“Exactly. But with a dose of flair.”

Weeks Later – A Pub in Cardiff

Kevin sipped a pint of ale, the Fool Us trophy gleaming next to him. An old friend—Marla, a former circus clown turned improv teacher—nudged him.

“They really bought the Merlin act?”

“Hook, line, and staff,” Kevin chuckled. “It’s not about the trick. It’s about how you tell the story.”

She raised a brow. “So what’s next, Mr. Magus?”

Kevin glanced at the trophy. Then to his suitcase, full of tricks, scripts, and mystery.

“I think I’ll take this show on the road. Europe. Maybe even Tokyo. There’s magic in every street corner. You just have to know how to conjure it.”

Marla raised her glass. “To Merlinus Magus the Magnificent.”

And as Kevin tapped his glass to hers, a puff of glitter erupted from his sleeve—just enough to make the bartender mutter, “What in blazes…” and the nearby couple whisper, “That’s him! The guy from Fool Us!”

Kevin winked, already halfway back in character.

Because the world needed a little more wonder.

And Merlinus Magus the Magnificent was here to supply it.