The 500, the Marine and the Comic

In the audience five hundred enlisted military were drinking. Off-hours at the air force base was a rowdy time for them.The solitary stand-up comedian on stage was growing anxious.

“You talk about scary. It wasn’t the time for me to put people down. But that’s my act.”

“A drunk guy–really drunk–makes his way up though the audience . He’s yelling from the back as he’s walking up. And I’m saying stuff back to him, which is pissing him off. The audience is loving it. The stuff I’m saying is about the size of his dick, among other things. I’m playing to the audience, saying the things I think will insult him enough that he’ll go, ‘OK, you win.’ that’s really what they want, to be put in their place. “

The drunk approaches the stage and shouts, “I’M A MARINE! I’M A MARINE!”

“That’s the last thing I want. I’m not a Marine, but if I had had a gun at that moment, I would have taken it out and used it.”

The drunken Marine moves toward the comedian.

Suddenly a man in the audience rises.

“He was a little guy, and I mean a foot shorter than this guy. But he bars the way, stops this guy. I was amazed. And he stopped him without throwing a punch. It was David and Goliath. Unbelievable! The guy takes a swing at him, but this little guy just kind of ducked, and started propelling the drunk out of the room.”

Afterwards the comedian bought his defender a drink, gave him a hug, and praised him to the audience.

“They gave him a standing ovation, this little guy. He was a master sergeant, so he was probably just very clear that he could handle this situation. He handled it. I couldn’t believe it.”