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When the poop hits the fan...

Adam's now gonna build a rig that consistently throws poo.

...Does everyone in the room really get covered?

Oh, hold on a sec.

Then, to find out if getting cold feet

means you actually get cold feet...

Ah.

...Arachnophobe Grant...

...Acrophobe Tory...

That was terrifying.

...And squeamish queen Kari

bare their soles and face their phobias.

Science tastes like vomit.

Who are the Mythbusters?

Adam savage...

It's scientific.

...And Jamie Hyneman.

I call it my little pop gun.

Between them, more than 30 years of special-effects experience.

Joining them... Kari Byron...

Explosives and electricity. Whoo!

...Tory belleci...

We're popping popcorn with lasers.

...And Grant Imahara.

I'm free! Aah!

They don't just tell the myths.

They put them to the test.

"A watched pot never boils."

"A stitch in time saves nine." What are you doing?

We're doing another idiom special,

and I'm going through fan submissions.

What's next?

"Cat has nine lives."

Can we do that one?

No, we cannot!

"Wild goose chase."

Can we eat the goose? No. That one's out.

We're never gonna get a chance to do this one.

"When the poop hits the fan."

I think we can do that one.

Really? What's the myth?

Well, it's a worst-case scenario.

It means that when the poop hits the fan,

crap's going everywhere, and if you're anywhere in the vicinity,

you're gonna get covered in it.

And you think we can do this tastefully?

Well, maybe not tastefully, but scientifically.

Okay.

So, the team are asking,

when unexpected, all-encompassing chaos ensues,

does this idiomatic allusion really hold true?

If you actually flung feces into a fan,

would everyone in the vicinity

end up covered in sh... shrapnel?

This story's about poo.

And in fact, it's about poo flying everywhere.

Obviously we don't want to be exposed to this stuff,

so with that in mind,

we're gonna create our own user-friendly version,

which will be hygienic and won't smell bad...

Waiter, my poo has a hair in it.

...Yet retains all its other physical characteristics.

Now, to do that, we need to use some real poo,

look really closely at it, measure its qualities,

and then try to replicate them.

We've decided to use dog poo for that purpose

because it's readily available

and it's what you might call

your average, middle-of-the-road excrement.

Basically, they're opening up a whole new field of science...

uh, excrement metrics?

Excrement metrics.

We have come up with three metrics

by which we are gonna make our imitation poo.

The first one... density.

We found that 100 cubic centimeters of real poo

weighed 4.1 ounces.

That's the weight we're gonna shoot for.

The next property I was thinking of was compressibility.

Second... compressibility.

A two-inch-diameter puck,

when we put a couple of pounds of weight on it,

actually compressed to a four-inch-diameter puck.

We're gonna look for the same type of behavior

from our imitation.

What about stickiness?

Third and final metric is stickiness.

We found that when our puck was compressed

between two sheets of acrylic,

if we put a little weight on the bottom sheet,

it took four seconds to unstick from the poo.

We're gonna look for that exact kind of behavior,

and we feel, if we match all three of these metrics,

our imitation poo is gonna be just like the real thing,

with none of the downsides.

Now that we know what we have to replicate,

it's time to make our poo analogue.

And strangely enough, Jamie being Jamie,

it's a skill he's spent years refining.

Flour.

I actually have a lot of experience

doing something rather like this...

Cornmeal....Not making poop...

Water.

...But actually making fake organic products,

in particular food products for commercials.

Clay powder.

I've made oversized cookies...

Oil.

...Every kind of a food product you can imagine,

and I find that you can create just about anything you want.

It's not looking too bad.

And what the guys want is a material that matches

their three key excrement metrics.

So, using a combination of materials science...

That's within 2%.

...Cookery skills, and his special-effects experience...

It's really nice from a compressibility standpoint.

...Jamie makes his flour-based goop feel like real poop.

And you know what?

My don't stink.

All right, so first up for us in idioms... getting cold feet.

Oh, meaning that fear prohibits you

from doing something you thought you could do.

Exactly, like, "I was gonna jump out of a plane,

but I got cold feet."

It sounds like the question for us is

do your feet actually physically get colder

as a response to being afraid of something?

To get cold feet

is a wonderfully expressive, idiosyncratic phrase.

But when the fear factor's dialed up,

does the temperature of your feet literally go down?

Okay, to test this myth, we're going to need

a super-accurate way to monitor the temperature of our feet.

I'm thinking maybe the thermal camera

and some skin-temperature probes.

All right, well, we're also gonna have to come up

with some horrifying things for us to do,

so that way we can measure the temperature of our feet

before and during the experiment.

Actually, dude, here's the catch.

The fans have already come up

with the horrible things for us to do,

and here's the list.

Oh, let me see. Let me see.

All right, Grant,

you don't like creepy-crawly things touching you,

so that's what you're gonna have to do.

Oh, yeah?

Well, you get grossed out easily,

so you are gonna have to eat something nasty.

What have they got for me?

Well, the fans notice

that you're most freaked out when you're at heights,

so we're gonna come up

with something really gnarly for you.

I can't wait to see what you come up with.

This experiment's gonna be kind of fun,

except for when it's my turn.

We are testing the myth "cold feet."

Now, the idea here is

that your feet actually get colder when you get scared.

How are we gonna test this?

We're gonna scare the crap out of each other.

Now, how will we be able to tell

if the temperature of our feet changes?

With these.

We have temperature sensors

that we'll tape to different areas of our feet.

These will record, every 10 seconds, the temperature,

so that way, when we're done with the experiment,

we'll be able to plug these into a computer

and find out if our feet actually did change temperature

over the duration of the experiment.

So, in addition to the sensors, on the other foot

we'll be aiming this thermal imaging camera.

It'll be able to detect and measure

minute temperature changes.

The average human body temperature varies

on who, where, and when you measure it.

Okay. K.B., you are 96.3.

So establishing a baseline skin temperature

while calm and resting is essential.

So, we just took the temperature of our feet,

and we're all averaging around 96 degrees.

That's gonna be our baseline.

Now it's time to scare each other.

Aah!

And first in line for a dose of dread is Tory.

And at king city airport,

Kari and Grant have lined up a terrifying test

to take advantage of Tory's fear of heights.

A high-flying ride in a stunt plane will surely provide

the necessary motivation for cold feet.

And to measure the temperature of his feet

during the buildup and throughout the flight,

Tory will be using the skin sensors.

What do you think? Think I could do some foot modeling?

Uh, maybe for fungus cream.

Plus he'll be wearing a heart-rate monitor.

And the man about to set Tory's heart racing

with a not-very-encouraging safety briefing

is world-class stunt pilot Sean d. Tucker.

You got to go into this knowing it's dangerous.

You got to go into this knowing there's not very many margins.

We got some outs here and there,

but, you know, you're entering the dark side

when you're gonna go flying with me

in the low-level environment.

Should I have worn man diapers?

And if Sean hasn't already got Tory's attention,

a description of the negative-g forces involved surely does.

We're probably gonna do 3 1/2 negative,

and that's the most I'd ever give you

because they are the very dangerous "g."

And they sneak up on you,

and they can break things in your brain,

they can detach your retina,

and they can make your eyeballs bleed.

Great.

Dude, I'm getting cold feet.

And if it sounds horrifying, it looks even worse,

because before Tory climbs aboard,

Sean goes solo for an adrenaline-inducing demonstration.

You know, at first I thought

Tory got the easiest of all the tasks,

but now that I've heard exactly what he's going to go through

and seen him turn green and his face completely drop,

I think this might be just crazy enough

to scare the bejesus out of him.

I'm a little bit happier now.

Oh, my God, he's not even flying.

I think he's falling.

We have these story meetings.

It's like, "oh, what can we do to scare ourselves?

What would be a good test to see if we get cold feet?"

Oh, my God. Wow.

Okay, now he's just showing off.

Well, if he's trying to scare me, it's working.

It always seems like a good idea when we're talking about it,

like, "hey, yeah, I'llo in a stunt plane.

That sounds like fun."

You're looking a little pale, man.

You actually do look green.

I'm not gonna lie.

I can't say I'm thrilled about this one.

But after being debriefed on what we're gonna be doing

and the dangers involved...

It doesn't sound like a great idea anymore.

I think I'm actually getting cold feet.

Next on "Mythbusters"...

Are you okay? No.

...Tory has second thoughts, but does he get cold feet?

Oh, crap.

Does getting cold feet mean you actually get cold feet?

To find out, Tory's facing his fear of heights.

Cue the fright flight of his life.

We just watched Sean go up in the air

and do a few maneuvers that he's gonna do

while I'm inside the plane.

He's spinning towards the earth, upside down.

And I have to tell you.

I looked at the numbers. I've done the calculations.

And I've come to the conclusion

that I don't want to do this anymore.

Dude, he's coming straight at us.

Aah! Aah!

What the...

Oh, my God, this guy is nuts.

And I'm trusting my life in his hands?

What if he passes out?

I mean, what if this is his day to go?

I think all of us were sort of wondering

if Tory was really gonna be afraid of this,

because this is basically an adrenaline-type activity,

which Tory enjoys.

So, to make sure,

Kari and I have been waging psychological warfare on Tory.

If we have to jump, I'm gonna say,

"bail out, bail out, bail out."

And then after we've explained all of the dangers

including your parachute, you know, not opening,

you bumping off the tail.

Be prepared. You're gonna hit the tail.

Boom, and you just push yourself away.

And hopefully by that time, he's in the mind space

where he can be anxiety-ridden enough to have cold feet.

Are you okay? No.

And that right there

is the look of a man getting cold feet.

But we won't know for sure

until we access the foot sensors after the test.

But right now, for Tory, after seems like a lifetime away.

Oh, crap.

As last words go, Tory,

you might want to rethink those.

Here we go.

Oh, man. What are we doing?

Bye.

My heart rate just spiked.

What are you?

I'm over 100. Okay.

Ohh. Let's see if I get cold feet.

And if the anxiety juices weren't already flowing...

My palms are definitely sweaty.

...There's the tortuously slow climb

to gain the required altitude for the first maneuver.

So not only is Tory now anticipating the chaos to come,

he's doing it way above his comfort zone.

I believe he's starting with the inverted flat spin.

Oh, man, yeah. You good now?

Here we go. You ready? All right.

Two. Three. Four.

Oh, my gosh.

You doing good? Yep.

You're doing good? Oh, my God.

How's that feel? Oh, my God.

Ah.

What's your heart rate?

Uh...140.

I have a feeling if he's got cold feet right now.

Oh, my God, that was terrifying.

Whoo!

They are not going easy on him, are they?

Nope, and for the next 15 minutes,

Sean puts Tory through the wringer,

doing everything he can

to scare the pants off Tory and freeze his feet.

Wow, the earth just keeps moving all over the place.

Oh, my God. Aah!

Oh!

You okay?

I'm okay. How you feel?

Oh, man.

All right!

Everything's good? Everything's good?

With Tory just about hanging onto his lunch,

it's time to bring him and this test back down to earth.

All right, Sean, I think we got enough data.

And I think I'm done.

I made it. I made it.

That was brutal.

But the worst part wasn't the actual maneuvers.

Well, I mean, it was partly the maneuvers.

But it was right before the maneuvers,

the fear of the unknown.

All right! Whoo! Whoo!

It's empty.

Oh, clean bag!

Oh, my gosh, that was insane.

Ohh!

Let's go crunch some data,

find out if you actually got cold feet.

Yeah, let's go look at the data.

Aah!

That was so intense.

All right, well, are you ready for our results?

Yes. All right.

Okay, well, you know that your heart rate

was elevated the entire day, right? Yeah.

Okay, well, if we look at the temperature of your feet,

all the way up to the plane ride,

it's at 96.2, which is exactly the same as your baseline.

Seriously? Yeah.

That's not looking good for the myth.

I mean, I know I might have looked like I was having fun,

but I was actually terrified.

Yeah, but check this out.

Before each of the big stunts,

there was a slight drop in temperature in your feet.

Yeah, but it's only a degree or two.

Before getting into the plane, I was actually terrified,

and then before each of those maneuvers,

I was dreading it.

But, I mean, such a small change in temperature...

we can't call this one yet.

After the break...

Ohh.

...The poop starts flying.

Interesting idioms and the odd adage

have proven to be fertile territory for the Mythbusters.

Dude.

That is a lead balloon.

So who better to make a whole heap of fake poop...

It's time to go into mass production.

...And see what really happens

when it hits the fan?

While we're at it, we're gonna add a little blue food coloring.

I don't know. Maybe it won't gross people out so much.

Once Jamie has squeezed...

Ohh.

...His physically accurate excrement analogue

into individual poop portions...

...The turd tossing can begin.

I think we're ready to test.

You've probably already figured out what we're going to do here,

but I'll explain anyway.

We're gonna hurl these poos at this fan

inside this 310-degree surround.

The idea is that anything that flies off this fan

will be clearly visible on this surround.

Shall we get started?

All right.

Oh, it feels really...

uh-huh. It's impressive.

All right, here we go.

In three, two, one.

That... that was...

I have to say I'm a little disappointed.

Well, you know, we kind of figured, with that screen on it,

it's not gonna fully penetrate the blades of the fan.

Right. The screen is out.

But a closer look reveals

that although it wasn't as disappointing

as they first thought...

Oh, but look.

There's actually a fair bit of coverage over here.

...Those few tiny specks are by no means

a dung-splattering home run.

So cue take two, and this time, free from its protective guard,

will the fan slice, dice, and fling feces in all directions?

All right, here we go.

One fan minus one grill plus one poo equals...

Equals a whole lot of not much,

and so far the myth is looking like a bust.

With or without the grill, poop is physically hitting the fan,

but the odd splattered speck does not constitute

the catastrophe the idiom implies.

But the guys aren't giving up yet.

These preliminary tests have yielded some info.

I'll tell you what I didn't expect.

I thought that the cage

would actually prevent the poop from reaching the blades.

I thought it was like a non-starter,

when it fact it acted more like a kitchen implement,

slicing and dicing the poop so that it actually spread better

with the cage on than the cage off.

Where does that leave us? Where do we go from here?

Where do we always go from here?

Bigger...

From a 12-inch fan to a 20-inch fan...

bigger cage, and the blades are made of metal.

Yeah.

So, let's see if the mean metal fan can.

That worked pretty well.

Oh, yeah, not bad.

Not bad is not good enough.

When the poop hits the fan,

you expect a disaster of poop-storm proportions.

And so far, that hasn't happened.

But that doesn't mean it's not possible.

Perhaps some combination of variables,

like the direction and speed of the fan,

or consistency of the poop,

will make it happen.

Before we start in on other variables,

I'd like to remove one.

I don't want to rely on myself for flinging the poo.

I'd like to make a repeatable poo thrower.

Adam's now gonna build a rig

that consistently throws poo at 30 miles per hour.

Yep, before they embark on a series of tests

that will isolate the myth's best chance of being confirmed,

they need some consistency.

Unfortunately, Adam, with his funky rotating catapult,

seems to be consistently missing the target.

After four hours of work on this,

it's really pretty, but I think I have to abandon it.

Not only is it not going fast enough...

a potentially fixable problem...

it's not aiming anything close to reliably.

It's ending up on the floor. The poo's ending up on the ceiling.

I need it to be 100% reliable in order to use this.

So I'm gonna cut it to pieces and try something else.

Something else being a more traditional catapult design

that not only gives good speed...

31.

31! Nice!

...It gets the round poop in the square hole every time.

Shall we get to testing? I think so.

All right.

Coming up next on "Mythbusters,"

face the arachnichair.

Kari and Grant have shaken, stirred,

and taken Tory to terrifying heights

to find out if getting cold feet

is a physical fact or idiomatic fiction.

Aah!

Now, while it might sound like a clever old saying,

there could actually be a biological basis

for getting cold feet.

When we experience fear,

our bodies go through an immediate and automatic response

called the fight-or-flight response,

and that's the brain preparing the body

to either fight the threat or run away from it.

And a number of things happen, but the important one for us

is that the blood vessels constrict,

forcing blood towards the major muscle groups...

the ones that you might use for fighting or running away.

What that does is it takes blood away from the extremities,

which, normally, the blood warms the extremities.

So you could actually experience cold hands or cold feet.

And to see if Grant gets cold feet,

Kari and Tory have a devious plan

that involves a spot of phobia shopping.

Owen.

Kari, Tory, hi, how you doing?

So, we need some creepy-crawly things to freak Grant out,

and we thought this would be a good place to come.

And with that, the guys get right to the dark heart

of Grant's nightmares...

hairy, scary spiders.

So, what we have here is avicularia avicularia,

the pink-toed tarantula.

Man, they look hungry.

Okay, so, I'm thinking...

Whoa! These things are gonna be perfect.

...Jumping, active, furry spiders all over Grant's head.

How many of these do you have?

25.

I think that's perfect.

This is gonna freak him out for sure.

Aah!

Back at base, Kari and Tory get down to business

building a rig that will put Grant in touch,

literally, with his eight-legged fears.

So, what have we got here?

Well, this would be

your basic arachnid containment and dispensary unit.

Right here we've got the tarantula delivery hole,

so that we can be dropping the spiders right on Grant's head.

It's made out of a clear acrylic.

And at the bottom right here,

we have the Grant-to-spider adapter.

And with the torturee all hooked up to the foot sensors

and test time fast approaching...

I'u a little... little nervous.

...Our test subject

is not exactly thinking warm and fuzzy thoughts.

Okay, so, it's well known

that I don't like the fish touching me.

Help!

On previous episodes, I've mentioned this.

Something just touched me!

The spiders, I think, are, um...

Help! Help!

Well, they're... they're on par, I think,

with the fish touching me.

Somehow, Grant, I think this is gonna top that.

Good to meet you.

And this is our chair.

The arachnichair.

And this is going to be living hell.

Now, Grant has known roughly what he was in for for a while.

But as he takes in the details...

Wait a minute. Here you go.

That way the spiders don't get in your eyes.

...You can literally see his brain

chemically shouting at his body, "run, Grant, run."

What we don't know is whether that feeling of fear

will result in cold feet.

Get the spiders. Mm-hmm.

While testing the idiom "when poop hits the fan,"

Adam and Jamie have seen some promising signs.

We're seeing our simulated poo spread radially outwards

directly from the blades.

But for the myth to be confirmed,

they need the feces to fly to all four corners.

So I've divided our testing surround into four quadrants.

This'll allow us to, test by test,

quantify the type of spread we're getting

from each of the iterations we're trying.

So, now they're gonna run through

all the possible combinations that will give the myth

its best possible chance of success...

Okay, so, high-speed fan,

frontal direction,

and regular poo.

...The fan's speed, direction,

and the consistency of the material in question.

And in a blur of a turd toss...

Did you get some on you? I did.

...And spray-pattern analyzing...

Couple of spatters in quadrant one.

...The guys cover all the possible permutations

with poop of regular consistency.

Obviously, poop comes in all different kinds of consistencies,

and we've tried a firmer version.

Now it's time to try a softer version.

And Jamie's so proud of his new, softer poo formula,

he's getting all artistic on us.

I'm actually developing quite the technique here.

I find it's best to start vertical,

doing a nice, tight, little coil,

staying directly above.

And then the trick is, right as you come to the top,

to do a little twist with the plunger...

ohh... while pulling up...

And you get a nice, perky, little tip at the end.

Oh, yeah, wow.

Oh, that feels just like when my dog

has been eating too much soft food.

Soft poo, from the front, high-speed.

Ohh. That's a whole different kettle of fish.

Much finer spray, and we got a lot on the front one

and some all the way on the back.

Ohh, nice. I think we're advancing.

But that was as good as it gets...

In three, two, one.

...Because none of the remaining combinations

improve on that first set of results.

Well, we've determined the worst-case scenario,

which is the softer poo

into the fan from the front at high-speed.

We're still not getting the universal

coverage that we're looking for.

This myth is all about complete catastrophe.

And now that they know what will give them the best chance,

it's time to take this test full-scale.

Coming up, Grant digs deep for science,

and Adam marshals the flat-packed poo platoon.

Grant has his butt in the arachnichair

and his head in a box...

a box that, in just a few fear-filled moments,

Kari and Tory will fill with crawlies that creep Grant out...

tarantulas...25 of them.

Okay, Grant, I want you to meet

avicularia avicularia,

more commonly known as the pink-toed tarantula.

And to find out if Grant's toes go from pink to blue,

skin sensors are monitoring one foot,

and the other is on thermal camera.

They come from Brazil, and they're aggressive eaters.

As for the test parameters,

Grant can call a halt to proceedings whenever he wants.

The e.M.T.S are on standby.

Heart rate just jumped to 139.

He has to keep his eyes open,

and the test will last a maximum of two minutes,

which starts now.

You ready? Here we go.

Whoa.

Keep your eyes open.

Look at that dark one. Whoo!

One more minute. Kari: One more minute, Grant.

Ah! Oh, my God.

Oh, look at this one in his hair.

Last spider.

That one went straight across his face.

All the spiders are in, and Grant is clearly scared.

30 seconds left. 30 seconds left.

What's also clear is this is going to be

the longest 30 seconds of his life.

Trapped in the enclosed space,

the spiders skitter, scurry, creep, and crawl

across his face and hair.

It is, quite literally, the stuff nightmares are made of.

But finally, he hears the magic words.

Okay, let's take the box off. All right, here we go.

There's no spiders around his neck, so we can slide this off.

Wait, hold on, hold on. Okay, good. Okay.

Nice work, buddy.

You made it! Yay!

At least now I got an answer to,

"what's the worst thing you've ever done on the show?"

You okay?

Yeah.

I don't really think I can adequately describe that...

that... that scurrying...

Uh, that sensation.

It's just like, not only is it a really scary thing,

but you just can't get away.

Well, the experiment's over.

We've got your baseline.

We've got your temperature during the test.

We've got your temperature before the test.

So we're gonna go compare all the results,

and we'll tell you if you got cold feet.

Yeah, and by the looks of it, I think you might have.

I think I might have, too.

All right, so, where do we stand?

We are testing the idiomatic phrase, "poop hitting the fan,"

and we've taken as our guide the soul of that phrase,

which, to us, is, when poop hits a fan,

everyone around that fan gets covered with poop,

the worst-possible-case scenario.

And we've tried pretty much everything we can think of.

We've tried hard poop. We've tried soft poop.

We've tried fast fans, slow fans, plastic fans, metal fans,

throwing it at the front, throwing it at the back,

and we've determined really pretty definitively

that any given poop and any given fan

do not equal universal coverage.

But, of course, we're not gonna leave it there,

because we want to know what would it take?

And right now, we're thinking what it would take

is a really, really big fan and a lot more room to work in.

More room to work, you say?

The hangar at the abandoned Alameda naval base

should probably do it.

Right now, this is nothing

but a massive 90,000-square-foot empty room.

They used to build airplanes here during world war ii,

but soon, right where I'm standing,

the is gonna hit the fan.

Yep, it's the perfect location to take this test full-scale,

and to confirm the catastrophic consequences of the myth,

they'll need to see everyone in the vicinity covered.

I wonder how they're gonna test that.

You may wonder how we're gonna test the full spread of the poo

in this large-scale experiment.

Wonder no more.

For the last two decades,

I have been slowly growing my own clone army

specifically for scientific testing.

You ready, boys?

They're ready.

This right here is our fan.

It's a 30-inch-diameter, 1,100-rpm,

1/4-horsepower cage fan.

Next, the guys put the poop-delivery device into place,

a state-of-the-art piece of hoosier hardware

called the Hyneman.

That seems ideal. Yeah.

Next, Jamie mixes up plenty of poop substitute,

using the same soft-serve formula

that gave him the best results in the shop.

And if you thought no one in their right mind

would want to stand at the eye of the poop storm,

you'd be wrong.

You didn't think I'd pass up an opportunity

to be part of this experiment, did you?

You know you look taller in person?

If there's any substance to this idiom,

when I'm done, there should be blue poo

on all of these dummies, including Adam.

Coming up on "Mythbusters,"

would you eat one of these things?

Get in there, fella.

Grant has just had

a face full of spiders for science.

But what do the numbers say?

Oh! I thought Grant was gonna pass out.

What are his results?

Okay, check this out.

For his control, heart rate, 87,

temperature of his feet, 96.3.

Okay, that's normal.

Okay, we stick the spiders in front of him,

heart rate, 139,

and the temperature of his feet dropped to 81.9

and remained that temperature

for the rest of the time the spiders were on him.

Wow. He actually got cold feet.

An impressive drop of 15 degrees

means the myth is heading in the right direction.

But remember, Tory's test was inconclusive,

so the guys can't call the result yet...

Aah!

...Which means it's Kari's turn to step up,

bare her sole for science, and face her worst fears...

a meal made by Grant and Tory.

To cold feet.

And warm bugs.

Their challenge is to present vegetarian Kari

with a buffet that will cause her pause,

a feast of fear to give her cold feet.

Now, preparing this feast, if you can call it that,

has been disgusting.

I mean, it smells bad.

I think that's done.

It looks bad. It's gooey. It's slimy.

And then to finish it off... A healthy coating of slime.

I mean, I'm about this close to throwing up myself,

and I got a strong stomach.

This is the largest snail in American waters.

I cannot imagine what Kari is gonna do

when she comes out and sees what she has to eat.

Oh, it smells so bad.

And seated at her table,

with her foot on thermal camera

and her heart-rate monitor on her wrist,

her eyes are about to be assaulted along with her nose.

Okay. Hey, here's our buffet.

We have chicken fingers, which is a delicacy...

Oh, God....In the American south and China.

Abalone. This is conch a la Grant.

We have kidney and liver, both uncooked and cooked,

flavored with abalone slime.

That way you have a choice.

Don't forget the bung gut.

Yeah, that is basically the end of a pig's intestine,

deep-fried.

Incredibly, in addition to this feast of fear,

the guys are throwing in a little live action...

the specials supplied by Owen, our provedore of phobias.

Okay, I am sweating. My palms are wet.

Now, in case you're thinking Grant and Tory

are being unreasonably cruel,

Kari doesn't have to eat everything,

just an entr*** and main.

Choose any two.

Well, uh, hmm.

I can definitely eliminate a few.

I'm not going to eat anything that had...

Any cuteness in its lifetime.

The boys know I have a very limited diet.

I... I don't... I don't eat...

I don't eat mammals.

Definitely don't eat things that are slimy.

So...The bugs, strangely enough,

were the best choice for me.

They seemed the most sanitary, considering most of this stuff

was prepared in the shop, anyway.

Come on, giant hissing cockroach...

just bite the head off, and the rest is just like butter.

Yeah. Like p***.

You sure you don't want to try the bung gut? Back up! Back up.

It's our homemade recipe.

Despite the staff's helpful recommendations,

Kari makes up her own mind.

I think I'm gonna go with small. Okay.

These came out of a beehive,

so I'm gonna pretend they taste like honey.

The wax worm... the larvae of wax moths

that live as parasites in beehives.

What's your heart rate at?

116.

Oh, my God, she's at 82.9 degrees.

So far, that's a drop of 13 degrees,

and what's unlucky for Kari

is she's yet to get through her first course.

Oh!

She did it.

And with the worm putting up a fight,

Kari's fight-or-flight response is fully activated.

That's good.

It wiggled. It wiggled in my throat.

Heart rate... 149.

Temperature is 79 degrees.

I can feel it in my throat.

Is it still moving? Mm-hmm.

There's no doubt Kari has cold feet,

but the agreement was two courses.

Plus, revenge is a dish best served with live bugs.

I want to know one thing. Yeah?

Why is it that I am a grown woman

and boys are still trying to make me eat bugs?

Again, working on the principle

that gross things are best swallowed small...

Oh, you better eat it. It's getting away.

...Kari selects the Chinese brown cricket.

Hey, don't play with your food.

You're like a cat.

You're just playing with your food till you eat it, huh?

Shut up, both of you!

With Kari on edge and close to fight,

the cricket's flight is up.

Oh!

Oh! Over this.

Not sure the cricket was the best choice.

I'll tell you why.

Oh, it's stuck.

You ever get a popcorn shell

stuck in the back of your throat?

I think... I think there's a leg.

I think... I think there's a leg back there.

Medic, standby.

After a short break

to release the cricket back into the wild...

Science tastes like vomit.

...Get her heart rate back under control,

and rein her composure,

Kari is ready to discuss the results.

Check out here your control.

You started out with a heart rate of 110,

and your foot temperature is 96 degrees.

And when you walk into the room,

your heart rate goes up to 130,

and the temperature of your feet went down to 84.

Well, I think that graph is pretty clear.

The decline in temperature in my foot just goes

particularly here when you eat your first bug...

your heart rate goes to 149.

And when you started choking on the cricket,

look where your heart rate is.

Oh, my God.

And your temperature is 78.6 degrees.

So, for Kari and Grant,

the idiom is clearly confirmed.

Their foot temperature dropped

by an astonishing 15 degrees or more.

But Tory's results weren't nearly as conclusive,

so where does that leave us?

So, you had a small drop in temperature.

It wasn't quite as significant as Grant or mine,

but still a drop,

so we're gonna have to call this one plausible.

Wow, that's cool. All right, plausible.

Plausible it is. You can get cold feet.

When poop meets fan,

is it really a complete disaster for everyone in the room?

In three.

To find out, Jamie, Adam and their crew of crap catchers...

Two.

...Have gone big... real big.

One.

Ohh!

Ugh!

Nice!

Oh, that was a good one.

Oh, hold on a sec.

Now, that is what you call poop hitting the fan.

Everyone from the cameraman to Jamie, Adam,

and every member of the poo platoon

got at least some level of coverage.

And I think you'd agree with me

that when it comes to poo flying around the room,

any poo is bad.

Adam wasn't the only one.

I got it on my beret. I got it on my shirt.

I even got it on my moustache.

And we had spray ending up all the way out

to about 40 feet away from the fan.

That's quite a spray.

I got to say, this is another in a long line of myths

in which in the small scale,

I didn't think things were looking too good for the myth,

but in the large scale,

all of a sudden they're looking pretty darned good.

Yep, under the correct circumstances,

the myth's catastrophe criterion has been matched,

and the fat lady is warming her tonsils.

But before she breaks into song,

Adam and Jamie have still got two buckets of unused fake poo.

Now, what to do?

That's what I'm talking about.

Yep, it's the Mythbusters' patented

ramping it up to ridiculous,

and to make sure they deliver on a suitably super-sized scale,

they're upscaling the fan

and flinging the poop from all directions.

Oh, yeah. Perfect.

We figure this time around,

we're gonna deliver our poop from multiple directions.

Are you ready, Adam?

I am ready, sir.

All different directions,

in three,

two, one.

I'm covered with it. It got all over me from up here.

And with that, this myth is all over with.

Let's inspect the troops, shall we?

Spattered, spattered,

oh, spattered, messed up,

spattered, spattered, spattered,

spattered, spattered, and spattered.

Where does that leave us?

I don't know... covered in poop?

It does. I'd call this one plausible.

Under the right circumstances, I agree.

What's that, boy? I know that was really cool.

And if you want to see it, too,

you can log on to discovery. Com/mythbusters.

Who's a good boy?

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