“I'm Jocelyn and this is my friend, Amy.” I was introducing us to the crowd, after we had volunteered to be in a dangerous magic trick, that was to be performed by 'Phil the Phantastic'. We had answered his call for a couple of lovely ladies to take part. There was some competition for this role, but we knew we would be picked, because Phil was our half-brother, in a similar way that Amy and I were half-sisters (Mum had a complicated history so we all had different fathers, which also meant we looked different enough not to have much family resemblance).

Phil, in his young magician casual (short-sleeved tuxedo t-shirt, jeans and black shoes), asked us each a couple of questions. Amy was asked if she was local and what she did for work; he always asked slightly different questions, but we had our characters so well fleshed out that we could improvise, pausing just long enough as if we had been asked the question for the first time, but not so long that it seemed we were making it up. Today, Amy was a hairdresser from several towns over come to enjoy a pleasant day at this park. This fitted with her yellow blouse, short pale-patterned skirt and strappy sandals with two inch heels.

I was asked the same. “I work at a restaurant in town, I'm here on my break. I hope this won't take too long, because my break finishes in about twenty minutes.” You may have noticed that this story does not line up with me introducing Amy as my friend, but we know from experience, nobody really pays attention to the introductions, other to get a minimal idea of who the volunteers are. This fiction explained why I was wearing a plain white blouse with a red bow-tie, black slacks and black flats on my feet.

Phil stepped back and swept the cloth from the bulky piece of equipment that had lurked at the back of the performance area. It initially seemed to be a table with legs under the corners at the ends and a further pair under the centre. On the table were a stack of boards, which Phil rapidly transferred to the floor. He asked, “Who's going first?” despite already knowing the answer, because, unless there was some bet lost or similar pre-arrangement we took it in turns to go first. We pondered the question for a second or two before I just pointed at Amy; it was her turn; it would be mine next time, as it had been last time.

Amy pantomimed dismay at being beaten to the punch, immediately followed a shrug of resignation. “I had hoped to see what happened to Jocelyn, but I guess she gets to see what's up first. What do I do?”

“All you have to do is lie down on the table, with your head up that end. You'll see some raised bits; they should be just right to rest your ankles, wrists and neck into, without being too uncomfortable.”

With an air of nervousness, Amy sat on the table and swung her legs into position, before shuffling a bit to get her ankles into the bottoms of the ankles stocks, which were permanently fixed to the table. Phil asked me to fetch some bits, pretending to point out particular sections in the pile of wooden boards. I pulled out the top parts of the stocks. He fitted these over Amy's extremities. His next request was some side panels. I pulled these out of the pile and handed them over. The four side panels were fitted either side of Amy's torso and legs; Phil fitted them with pegs that went into holes in the table then used clips to hold them in place. Next I helped him fitted the tops to the box that contained my half-sister, then he opened the doors in the side panels showing Amy's yellow sleeved arm and her pale skirt still inside the box.

Phil thanked me for my help in boxing up Amy. “Now, it's your turn to lie down. Please climb on top of Amy's box and lie face down with you neck, wrists and neck in the dips in the bits sticking up at the ends.” I pouted, to give the impression of feeling put out that I was not going to see what he had planned for Amy before committing to being more involved myself. With a helping hand from Phil I stepped onto the table and sat on the top of the box. I mimed being puzzled by the numbers of dips in sections of stocks that stuck up at the ends of the lid Phil and I had just fitted. I lay down on the lid and located my limbs in the cut-outs in the lower stock. This resulted in my feet pointing at Amy's face and me facing her feet. Phil was quick to fit the tops of the stocks over my neck, then my shins.

The building of the box around my body and legs was soon accomplished and the side doors opened to show the short sleeves of my white blouse and the black fabric of my skirt.

A gasp from the audience indicated the moment when he produced a four foot long saw with a handle at each end. He rested it on top of the double box.

Phil came round to shut all the doors in the side panels, before lowering the saw through the small gap between them, where its teeth rested on my back. There was a short pause to allow for someone to volunteer to help with sawing. Then Phil began to saw, which was as effective, because the other end of the saw was weighted. I soon felt the saw penetrating my skin and back-bone. Once my back bone was severed it took a couple of strokes to cut through the rest of me, then the saw dropped onto the lid of the lower box where there were some pieces of wood positioned in the saw's path. These were soon sawn through and the saw dropped onto my sister's belly. The saw continued downward until it scraped in the channel within the table.

Phil dragged saw out of the gap and collected the blades to separate us, which were quickly inserted. We did not bother with the head-tug gag, because it does not fit the pacing. With the separators in place, latches are undone and the two halves of the table are parted. The section with my head and hands looking down at Amy's sandalled feet goes one way, while the half with Amy's head and hands looking up at my feet goes the other. He opened the side doors to show that each section still has the expected contents.

As Phil shuts the side doors he also releases some clips. This had no effect until he pulls out board/lids I was resting on that separated the halves of the lower boxes that I had been laying on. This changed the angle that my visible parts stuck out of the stocks as I dropped a couple of inches onto my half half-sister. He then began the deconstruction of the boxes; first taking the lids and rears from both boxes and then revealing our predicaments by removing the front panels.

I sat on half the table with my sandalled feet in a stock, my butt in a pale patterned skirt against the blade and my white-bloused torso bent over to my head and hands in the same stock as my feet. Amy's torso in its summery top was revealed held flat on her table, because her head and hands were trapped in the bottom of a double stock below her feet on legs that wore black slacks, the seat of which pressed against the separator blade still attached to her half of the table.

Phil is quick to get us out of the stocks because being folded over like that is the worst part of the whole experience. We are led in a bow and reintroduced to the audience as Amilene and Joey, then asked to hang around so that he can give us our own legs back after the show.

Does Phil really swap our bottom halves? Is it a costume change trick? Is something else going on? You can believe what you want, because I am not going to tell you. A magician's assistant never reveals her secrets.