Review

Life--it's literally all we have.

But is it any good?

I'm a reviewer,

but I don't review

food, books, or movies.

I review life itself.

*

Over here.

*

Hello and welcome to Review.

Whatever life experience you're curious about,

I will do it, and then I will review it.

I'm Forrest MacNeil, back for more life,

and how exciting to be reunited

with the world's greatest review assignment reader,

A.J. Gibbs.

Hello, Forrest.

- Welcome back. - Thank you, A.J.

Now let's face it, our first season was not easy on me.

- I will end you! - Oh!

You killed my father in outer space?

- Oh! - Jack!

What's it like to get a divorce?

You are gonna die alone, so get out of here.

When the season was over,

I spent some time lost in the wilderness,

despairing over what seemed to be

the pointless destruction of my life.

Why?

But then I read the inspiring letters, tweets, and emails

from my viewers,

and I saw that this show

gives meaning to my life and yours.

The destruction of my life

was anything but pointless.

Now, in order to ensure that my life

doesn't go to hell again as I live on your behalf,

I will now be permitted to veto two reviews

here in our Veto Booth.

Now, without any further ado,

let us find out the first review of season two.

* Do, do-do-do

Do, do-do-do. Yes.

Our very first review comes from Colleen in Eugene, Oregon.

Hi, Forrest.

I'm at a Zen retreat right now.

What's it like to get into a bare-knuckle brawl?

A bare-knuckle brawl? Wow.

Yeah. You want to dodge this one, Forrest?

Is it veto time already?

No. No, thank you, A.J.

Life has knocked me down, and I'm ready to get back up

and fight.

After the difficulties of last season,

I moved into my boyhood home with my lonely father,

a perfect place to embark on this review,

since the last time I lived here,

I was of an age when conflicts were often settled

with fisticuffs.

Now this young man,

me, had absolutely no interest

in fighting at all.

I opted to avoid such confrontations

either by running away or changing schools.

As a matter of fact, slugging my producer, Grant,

at the end of last season is the first punch I've ever thrown.

- Oh!

And I have a feeling my second punch

is not too far off.

I'll call you if I need a ride home, all right?

I'll come and get you, and don't slam the door.

I didn't.

I set out to find someone to whom I could serve

one or both of my knuckle sandwiches,

but everywhere I went, perfectly decent people

were going about their lives,

failing to provoke a righteous pummeling.

*

Aha.

Well, this man just cut me in line for the ATM.

Now I have a reason to start

a bare-knuckle brawl.

Ahem.

Excuse me.

- I was next for that ATM. - Just--

- - Oh, ! Wow, wow.

That really hurts.

That's something I had not considered,

how much it hurts me to punch somebody.

Obviously it hurts when you're getting punched, but--

Ah!

Oh, ! !

! ! Oh.

- Yeah, I just shot somebody. - , !

- Why? - I don't know.

I got scared, okay?

Just shut up for a minute. Let me think, Mom.

Yes, it happened again, okay?

Forrest?

You getting this?

Forrest?

Having been shot three times with a gun,

I underwent emergency surgery to save my life.

The extreme blood loss caused me to slip into a coma,

which I can only describe as restful.

Review footage allows me to appreciate

that I received many visitors in my unconscious state,

including my producer, Grant,

and my executive assistant, Lucille,

who struggled to put their concern into words.

What if we, like, put a pillow on his face

and pretended we were smothering him?

I mean, we would be smothering him,

but we'd take the pillow off, obviously.

Would he fight for life?

My intern, Josh, stopped by with his new girlfriend, Tina.

They behaved regrettably during their visit.

I was touched to see that even my estranged ex-wife stopped by,

and despite the presence of this show's cameras,

almost entered my room.

But most frequently by my side were my father

and my nurse, Marisa, who was holding my hand

when I miraculously emerged from two months in a coma.

Excuse me, I was next for that ATM.

- Bicycle. - Very good.

Marisa stayed by my side

down the long road to recovery.

Conspiracy.

Bridge.

And I'm happy to say that we struck up

a bit of a romance.

That's good.

Learning to walk again was

one of the greatest challenges of my life,

but Marisa's cheerful, nurturing presence

gave me something to walk toward.

There you are.

Over time, we shared our fears and struggles,

and I vowed to get strong enough

to hold Marisa up as she now held me,

or as she put it one day during therapy...

I heal you,

you heal me.

- Thank you. - I'm so proud of you.

- God, Forrest, you almost died. - Yes.

Are you starting to think that maybe you should have

stayed in hiding and not come back to Review?

Quite the opposite, A.J.

A near-death experience has a way

of focusing the mind on what's really important in life,

and I feel more certain than ever before

that what's important in my life is this work.

Wow.

And I certainly didn't think that my fists

would lead me to a new girlfriend.

So allow me to weigh the good and the bad things

that come from a bare-knuckle brawl

and give it a very balanced 2 1/2 stars.

This next one is an email from Ahmed

in East Lansing, Michigan.

- East Lansing? - Can you believe it?

Yes.

- Blackmail? - Blackmail.

My goodness. Wow.

Okay, well, uh,

it looks like I am about to enter the rather shady world

of using people's secrets against them.

Here I go.

And then I'd just be like,

"Listen, you put $500 million in the garbage can,

"or Mr. MacNeil's gonna tell the whole world

about you, you pervert."

- Yes. Okay. - Yeah.

So what dirt do you have on Queen Elizabeth?

I mean...

I don't-- I don't really have anything.

My staff and I scoured the Internet

for damaging information about prominent public figures,

but we came up empty.

I realized I would need to capitalize on secrets

I already possessed.

Lucille, two weeks ago Friday,

I saw you out canoodling with a man,

not your boyfriend, Gordon.

Really thin guy in a baggy pair of jeans?

Yeah. That was him.

It would really be a shame

if Gordon were to find out about that.

It was Gordon.

He just had lap band surgery.

- Are you serious? - Yeah.

Well, he looks great.

That night, my darling Marisa

slept peacefully in my childhood bed,

but my concern over this review made sleep impossible

and a few extra painkillers necessary.

It was then that I realized

I did know someone with a damaging secret.

Marisa had a habit of helping herself

to her patients' leftover pills.