The Show Must Go On

"Family reunions, am I right?"

As a standup comedian, this line always kills. You know, because everyone has that love/hate relationship with their families, everyone. But last night, that line hit differently, and it hit hard.

So, the set began as they always do...me clearing my throat and talking over the drunks on the front row, doing my best to get everyone settled down and tuned into my portion of the show. I always liked performing last for that reason, everyone was feeling pretty good by the time I stepped up. Usually this meant, everything was just a little funnier, making my slapstick insults, a little more tolerable.

They were always pretty harmless anyway, like; What do you call a tumor on the front of a middle aged mom? "A mama's boy!" ha, ha, ha. Well, the boy on the front row, taking shots with his mama, took offense to that, and next thing I knew the heckling began.

Most times, the heckling made for a better show. It's really kinda funny how people love a target, so I gave them one. To this old boy's dismay, I began to give it back. "Now, hang on everybody, I won't be able to continue with the show until this boy, (turning the spotlight on his face) turns in his signed permission slip to participate. Mama, do you think you can help us out, please?"

I could see that struck a nerve, so without further adieu, I decided to dig a little deeper, looking for the crazy behind those eyes. And by the response of the crowd, I was not alone.

"So, Mama, how old is your baby boy?" I asked, in my best baby voice. Her answer about knocked me off the stage, "He will be 324 months, tomorrow."

She answered so excitedly, that before thinking, I responded. "So, he invited you along tonight for the BYOB, family reunions, am I right?!"? The crowd went nuts, and let me tell you, that boy went bat-shit crazy!.

Before I knew what happening, a switch flipped in his head, and the lights went out. His eyes narrowed and his face turned as red as a cherry, and quicker than a monkey with a handful of crap, he was on me. Riding me like a barebacked horse in a black market rodeo.

Fists and teeth were flying like chicklets at a drive through bank teller. Security was pushin' and pullin' like we were the hottest flavor of taffy at the fair. All I could see through my fogged up glasses, was slobber and snot. He'd wound himself up tighter than a yoyo, and like the walk the dog trick, smashed me right in the mouth.

When I tell you that he tasted like vermouth and annihilation, I mean, I felt the heat like a vampire at sunrise.

By the time everything calmed down, the audience was on their feet, giving the show a stand up ovation. I had never seen anything like it, I was a hit.

As the police cuffed the boy I asked for a favor. Please let me talk to him for a minute. After some negotiation, I dropped all charges.

I decided that if you can't beat em, join em, or let them join you.

Now, he is my paid assistant and permanent heckler. We are currently rolling in the dough faster than the shop down the street, and in case you were wondering...yes, his mama delivers the milk.