This answer was written by an LVA staffer.
The first few Frisbees, flung into the audience as a way to select random participants, missed me by a mile, but the fifth came right at me. No way to duck or deflect, if I hadn't put up my hand in the nick of time, it would've nailed me right in the nose.
The next thing I knew I was on my feet with a microphone in my mug and in full view of everyone on the giant video screens as I tossed out random numbers and revealed the color of my boxer shorts for the prediction bit.
Every night, dozens of audience members wind up as part of the Copperfield show, but my role seemed never-ending. I threw the Frisbee (to select the next participant), marched onstage, collected five keys from other participants, unlocked a padlock, clutched a bundle throughout the trick, and nearly became a human sacrifice when a full-size Lincoln convertible settled onto a post I was hugging on my knees.
Throughout the experience, bewildering as it was, I was acutely aware of the stage managing: male assistants dressed in black nudging me hither and yon to hit my mark on one of the numerous X's on the stage floor (presumably, so I didn't fall into any trap doors, decapitate myself on a wire, or upstage the star).
For those who suspect that audience-participation shows are fraught with "plants" who are part of the act, I can attest that I certainly wasn't (damn Frisbee!), which made me a believer in magic … almost.