Quality American Manufacturing

We had one heck of a great crowd last night. Very appreciative crowd.

As I was getting into monologue #2, the gun fell out of my belt holster. Exact same place, exact same time, for the third time. "...special orders don't upset us, all we ask is that you--" THUD. "Dammit." Scooped up the gun, and kept going. Okay.

Toward the end of Another National Anthem, the barrel of my gun flew off. It was something out of a bad cop movie. (Not a movie about bad cops.) One minute, I'm holding an instrument of doom in my hot little hands, next minute FWING! I'm staring down the missing barrel at some confused looking audience members who must have been thinking, "Did I just see what I thought I saw?"

I'm supposed to still be pointing a gun at the crowd, and I wasn't about to look any more ridiculous than a guy in a Santa suit with half a gun. So I put the gun at my side and yes, I point at the audience. Meaningfully. Oh yeah. I meant business. You know. With that finger.

Turns out the barrel flew right through the partition in the curtains, easy to find and attempt to fix. A little electrical tape, and the gun is good as... almost new. It's black, the gun is black, there we go.

Sheesh.