Original subtitles

My name is Nathan Fielder,

and I graduated from one of Canada's top business schools

with really good grades.

Now I'm using my knowledge

to help struggling small business owners make it

in this competitive world.

This is "Nathan for You."

If you're a fan of delicious chili,

there's a small chance you've heard of the Lie-N-Den

Bar & Grill in Bakersfield, California,

where owner Robert Bryan has been serving up

his famous family chili recipe for decades.

Just about done.

Robert's longtime dream

has been to sell his chili

to the hordes of hungry hockey fans

who attend Bakersfield Condors home games

at the nearby Rabobank Arena,

but so far, he hasn't had much luck.

I did call Rabobank Arena.

I asked them,

"How would I get on your vendor list?"

"Oh, we have our own vendors.

We don't have a list." So.

I tasted his chili just to make sure

it was as good as he said, and it was.

Mmm.

The flavors and spices

felt awesome against my tongue,

and I was stunned that Rabobank Arena

turned him away,

but fortunately, I had a plan

to get him in the door.

I have a pretty good handle on the law,

from, you know, just experiences I've had.

- Okay. - And here's the thing.

If they never know that you're selling chili,

then what's the consequence?

Well, I don't know how I would sell it

without them-- without their knowledge.

Although it violates the stadium's policy,

there's no law against sneaking chili into a hockey game

for the purposes of selling it,

so if we could make a custom-design body suit

that could be filled with a massive payload of chili,

Robert would finally be able to sell

his signature dish at Rabobank Arena

without stadium management ever catching on.

That's interesting.

I'm just curious as to how-- what it would look like.

You know, I put a lot of thought into this idea,

and every time I run it through in my head,

it works perfectly.

Okay.

Robert was on board, so later that week,

I hired a professional tailor

to help design the chili suit

based on a detailed sketch I had drawn.

The easiest way is probably to put the chili in--

I guess from the neck part, right?

Sure.

Our plan was to have the chili reservoirs

mimic the distribution of fat on a larger man's body

so it wouldn't look suspicious under clothing,

and with the help of a guy from Craigslist,

our tailor was able to take all the measurements he needed.

- The chili is gonna go here. - Mm-hmm.

And we can get more in here too.

You could probably do, like, a cup there, right?

- Yeah. Yeah. - Cup or so?

- Yeah, a cup, yeah. - Yeah. Okay.

All right, so we'll see you around, then.

Yeah. Thank you so much.

And a few days later, we received

a completed prototype

of a heat-resistant polyvinyl fluoride suit

designed to hold over 100 servings

of fresh chili.

The individual reservoirs would be linked

by a network of tubes that would all lead

to a battery-powered peristaltic pump

for dispensing the chili.

Using our intake funnel,

we loaded in over 30 pounds of Robert's product

that had been blended into a thin paste

to ensure an even flow without compromising the flavor.

So with that, I activated the pump,

and it was time to see if this could work.

As I had hoped,

the pump dispensed the chili

at a steady pace,

which was good,

but I realized we had overlooked

a crucial detail.

The chili suit prevented bathroom access,

and because of its weight,

removing it during a game

would not be an option.

So I experimented with a design

that would allow me to deposit my excretions

directly into custom rubber underwear

connected to a secondary pumping system

so I could eject it into a toilet

via a second tube down my right arm.

But once I had some clothing on,

I realized the potential for a costly mix-up

was too great.

So I had the bottom part of the suit

redesigned with strategic holes

in the groin and buttocks region

that would allow the wearer

to relieve him or herself

without taking off the suit.

But there was still the issue of the temperature.

To meet health department standards,

Robert said the chili would have to remain

above 135 degrees Fahrenheit at all times.

But when I put it on, the heat was so intense

that I could barely have it against my skin

for more than a few seconds.

So I tracked down some heat-resistant polymer gel

that could insulate the body

against the most extreme temperatures.

Feel anything?

- No. - Good.

I did a preliminary test

with a blowtorch on various parts of my body

to ensure the gel would protect even my most sensitive regions.

And after getting gelled up from head to toe,

the burning sensation had completely vanished.

Yeah.

It seemed like we had solved every problem,

but there was still one final thing I had to take care of.

The pump on my chest that made the chili suit function

was made out of metal,

and to get into Rabobank Arena,

every ticket holder has to pass through a metal detector.

So I figured if I could convince security

that I had a medically necessary pacemaker,

they wouldn't be suspicious when the alarm went off.

So I taped a real pacemaker to my chest

and then headed to a walk-in clinic

to request an X-ray

that would hopefully trick the physician

into writing me a doctor's note.

I would need to actually examine you

and see why is it that you need the X-ray.

I have to have a reason why.

Well, I'm paying you for it,

so what do you care?

I'm actually-- legally, it's being...

monitored to see why we're ordering an X-ray.

Oh.

Well, what's the minimum I need to say

to get one?

Either some area hurts of your chest or--

- Sure. - You're having a cough.

Okay. Yeah.

Are you-- what are you experiencing?

Yeah, both those. Yeah.

Mm-kay.

Just step as close as you can,

and you're gonna take this shirt off, okay?

Your undershirt will be fine,

but I gotta get rid of the buttons, okay?

Okay. Okay, sure.

Take a big breath.

Hold it.

And once the doctor saw

the pacemaker on my X-ray...

It looks like it's in well position

and no abnormalities.

She wrote me a doctor's note that would hopefully

get me through security.

Thank you so much, Doctor.

And that meant it was finally time to buy a ticket

to the next Bakersfield Condors home game.

So an hour before puck drop,

I headed to the Lie-N-Den to fill up the suit

with a fresh batch of chili.

I then put on some extra large clothing

that made me look like a typical hockey fan

but was also secretly designed

so I could carry everything I would need

for our customers.

Along with a special pocket

built to hold cups and spoons,

I also had a cane with a secret trigger

that could dispense organic sour cream on demand,

a trucker hat with a built-in cheese grater

to deliver fresh cheddar cheese,

and lastly, a cargo pocket full of chives.

Got a little bit of an aftertaste,

but I don't know if it's the chives

or the sour cream.

It's close.

With everything set

and just minutes until game time,

I arrived at Rabobank Arena

and nervously approached the security checkpoint.

Hi. I have a medical condition.

This is my pacemaker ID card.

So I have a pacemaker, so it might beep when you do it

over my chest area.

Okay.

Yeah, so that's my pacemaker.

- Okay. - Okay.

Thank you so much.

Getting inside was a huge victory,

but for my plan to work, I would need to be able

to sell chili for an entire game

without getting caught,

so I decided to start in the upper levels

where security was thinner.

Hi, there, would you like any fresh chili?

Two dollar chili?

I faced some rejection at first,

but it wasn't long until I had my first sale.

It's chili.

Do you want one?

As my confidence grew,

I ventured down to the lower level,

where I got a second sale

from a guy in section 109.

I used my big body to block the view of security

as I covertly squirted out his serving.

Here you go. Two dollars, please.

And after that, I began to feel invincible.

Hi, there.

I moved through the stadium like a ninja,

switching sections after each sale

so I couldn't be tracked.

At one point,

I thought security was on my tail,

but I was able to lose the guy

by ducking into a handicapped bathroom,

after which I reemerged

and resumed my operation.

I can serve it to you right now.

I have it right under my clothes.

I sold 16 bowls of delicious chili that night,

right under the noses of stadium management,

and that meant, from this day forward,

Robert had a proven method to sell his chili

at Rabobank Arena.

This is $32.

And the ticket was only 12.

So that's $20 profit in one game.

Okay.

So I'll just leave all this here for you, then?

Yeah.

- Bye. - Bye, now.

Nothing feels better than a massage.

Nothing.

Which is why Anna Davis of Swan Day Spa

in Los Angeles, California,

has made it her livelihood.

But with plenty of competition in the area,

Anna has been forced to lower her prices so much,

she's barely making a profit.

Now we have a lot of competition,

so the client, when they got in,

they were looking for the cheaper price.

We have a deep tissue one, which is, you pay more, $15.

I think I'll try the $40 one for right now.

Okay. Okay, that's fine.

With customers going for the cheapest price

and ignoring her more profitable premium massages,

it was clearly a problem.

So I paid Anna a visit with a unique way

for her to upsell her customers.

You see, the key to upselling

is advertising a low price to bring people in

but then ensuring that once they see the product,

they'll definitely want to upgrade.

So if customers arrived at Swan Day Spa

and discovered that the $40 special

was done exclusively by someone with a contagious disease,

like viral warts,

customers would be a lot more likely

to upgrade to one of Anna's premium options.

The plan: upsell customers

by making the $40 special a wart massage.

I think... I think you're right.

Nobody want to get the wart massage.

For sure.

Anna was intrigued,

but she was a bit worried

about what her customers might think.

They might be upset.

They might be sue me.

Sue the business.

But I assured her that no one would complain

as long as they believed it was for a good cause.

Have you ever done any charity work before?

- Oh, never. - So with Anna's blessing,

I created a real charity

whose mission was to place people living with warts

into the workplace.

I then distributed our flyers

at dermatology clinics across the city

and posted an ad on Craigslist

seeking people with active viral warts

who were looking for work, and later that week,

I met with the two men who responded.

I think I've had every kind of wart invented.

I don't know.

Oh, whoa.

But probably the worst case of warts that I had

was on my penis.

Okay.

And it was, like, a circle around my--

I mean, it was...

Made it so that... sex was not an option.

- Right. - Right?

- Yeah, 'cause... - Yeah.

I just took a soldering iron.

Burned it off myself.

- Whoa. - Like, why go to a doctor

and have him do it?

I know what he's doing.

Just burned it off.

- You drop something? - I did, yeah.

A little device here.

- A device? - Yes.

- What is that? - This is a wellness wand.

- What's that mean? - Well, it's--

Right now,

the way that the unit works

if I have it sitting right--

if I set it right here,

it's putting out a signal

that's coming out to the edge of the table,

maybe a little beyond.

- Uh-huh. - All right?

And the signal is matching

with whatever the needs are that you select from the files.

- Are you a healer or something? - Yes.

- Oh. - Yeah.

Okay.

- Yeah. - What...

Uh, what...

How, um...

Okay.

After carefully vetting the candidates

to be sure they had at least one wart,

I officially signed them on to the CityWarts roster.

But before they could be placed at Swan Day Spa,

there was still one thing our charity needed:

an endorsement.

It seemed like every credible charity

had the endorsement of a public figure,

like a mayor or a city council member,

and I was worried that if CityWarts didn't have one,

the public would never accept the idea

of a wart-infected masseur.

So I rented out the ballroom of the historic Oxford Palace Hotel

and then reached out to every local politician I could find,

inviting them to be the guest of honor

at a gala event for the launch of a new charity.

And after a few days, we finally got an RSVP

from Councilman Ed Reyes,

a 12-year veteran of LA's city council.

So on the day of the event,

I decorated the ballroom

with the finest and fanciest things

in the hopes that this gala would be enough

to dazzle Councilman Reyes into legitimizing CityWarts

with his official endorsement.

- Hi, Nathan. - Hey.

Oh, my gosh. You look nice.

Thank you. How are you?

- Nice to see you. - Nice to see you too.

Okay, so.

What do you think?

I like it. It's pretty.

Once Anna took her seat,

we opened our doors

to the crowd of random people

I had paid to attend the event

so that Councilman Reyes would be impressed

by the charity's popularity

when he arrived.

Since every real charity gala

is hosted by a beauty queen,

I hired Miss California 2013, Mabelynn Capeluj,

to be the evening's host.

It's here in Los Angeles, and they help

people in Los Angeles with warts get jobs?

- Yes. - That's their mission, okay.

Do you get nervous before these things at all?

- Um, sometimes, sometimes. - Yeah?

But I feel like this will be easy.

Hopefully I don't jinx myself.

- You're so beautiful-- - Thank you.

You could probably go out there

and just go, "Blah, blah, blah,"

and no one would know the difference.

- Thank you. Hopefully. - Yeah. No problem.

As the crowd settled in,

Councilman Reyes entered the room

with all the confidence I would have expected

from an elected official.

I only hoped that this gala event

would be enough to win his coveted endorsement.

So, growing up, I actually had a friend who--

he had warts on his hand,

and I believe his mom or he said

it was from handling a frog.

He was able to seek medical attention,

and they were able to freeze and remove the wart,

and he's just fine now,

and that's why I'm so proud to introduce to you

CityWarts and their mission to put warts to work.

And right now, I'd like to bring out

some CityWarts Angels

to talk about their own experiences with warts.

My name is Daniel,

and I have warts.

My hope is that some personal stories

from our CityWarts Angels would help

garner sympathy from Councilman Reyes.

I had a wart right here.

Nine warts made, like, a number six on my hand.

A ring of genital warts around my penis.

Remember, wart pride.

Thanks, CityWarts.

Thank you very much.

I appreciate everything that CityWarts is doing

for our community,

and because of CityWarts,

I had a opportunity for a job placement with massage.

You guys have a great night,

and thank you.

The speeches were a hit,

and after concluding the night

by recognizing the Swan Day Spa

as CityWarts' newest partner,

it was time to approach Councilman Reyes

for his endorsement.

Councilman, hi.

Would I be able to get a photo with you

and Anna over here?

This is Anna.

- Nice to meet you, sir. - Hi, Anna.

Okay, come on over here.

With a photo of Anna

standing next to

a respected city councilman,

it was now impossible to deny

that he was a supporter of our cause.

Thank you for that endorsement.

Thank you so much.

So with proof of our credibility

now proudly displayed

behind the desk at Swan Day Spa,

it was finally time for our wart angels

to meet their new boss.

It is such a honor

to be in a location

where...

you're creating a wart-positive environment.

- Thank you so much. - Thank you so much.

But before moving forward, Anna wanted to be sure

they had the right skills for the job.

Have you ever trained to massage before?

Are you a licensed massage therapist?

I'm not a licensed massage therapist,

but I stay in practice with my girlfriend,

because she gets foot reflexology

every single night,

and then I just work my way up from the ankles.

Apply. Release. Apply. Release.

Dig a little bit.

- Okay. - Every night.

She's a lucky lady.

Oh, that's nice. How about you, Albert?

Well, I've had experience.

I used to give massages to my grandmother.

- Okay. - Just a little bit at a time.

Like, and I-- the main focus

was for her to feel good

and not for me to be...

because a massage is not supposed to be...

it's supposed to be...

- You know. - Yeah.

Just making the person relax and--

Okay, so you approve them? They meet your standards?

For right now, I mean, we have to learn more.

For now, yeah, we have to see.

Anna was satisfied with their qualifications,

so the Angels took their stations

while Anna and I waited for customers up front.

Yes, I'd like to have the massage.

Yeah, it's-- how you like it?

We have so many kinds.

I want to get that one that was the special for $40.

- Okay. - As usual, the customer chose

the cheapest option available,

so once she was ready and waiting on the table,

it was time to see if the new upsell would work.

- Hi, there. - Hi.

Hi, so I'm not sure if you're aware,

but the $40 massage special that you selected

is done in conjunction with a charity outreach program

- called CityWarts-- - Uh-huh.

That puts people living with warts into the workplace.

Okay.

Is that something you're comfortable with?

Yeah, that's okay 'cause it's not a contagious thing.

Oh, actually, warts are contagious.

- Oh, they are? - Yes.

- Oh. They're contagious? - Yes.

Does he wear gloves or what?

He will be wearing thin gloves.

After telling the client about our full range of massages,

she could now see the benefits of the premium options.

So how much are the other massages?

It's just $15 more.

All right, I'll take one of the others.

My plan worked perfectly.

All right, so this is your therapist, Mamie.

She does not have any warts.

- All right, thanks. - At all.

Okay, great, enjoy your massage.

- Thank you. - And Anna was thrilled.

- She upgraded. - Oh!

And as the day went on,

more and more customers

opted to upgrade to the premium options.

I guess I just want the one with the non-wart worker.

Yeah.

Anna was upselling her clients

at an unprecedented rate,

and any time a customer was skeptical,

we had all the credibility we needed.

This is me and a city councilor.

I mean, I don't know how much more legit

you can get than an LA city councilman

endorsing the charity, but...

Yeah, it seemingly-- it seems safe

if the city's working with it.

I did feel a little bad

that no one wanted anything to do

with our wart angels that day,

but it was nice to know

that at least they had each other.

I love baking cakes.

Pies.

Is it the baking that you like,

or is it the look in the person's eyes

that you baked it for?

Both.

Absolutely.

Type of pacemaker you have?

Um...

I think it's a...

Sony?