Comics, don't let your daddies grow up to be hecklers!

by Brian McKim & Traci Skene on April 10th, 2005

A story for the ages. So we’re co-headlining at Rascals in Cherry Hill, NJ, this past weekend. The first three crowds of the weekend are splendid– enthusiastic and attentive; some smaller than others, but quality-wise, they’re great.

Come show number four– 10:30 show Saturday– we’re hoping to cap the whole weekend off with a corker, when some guy in the back starts giving Traci shit within four jokes of her hitting the stage. Traci gives it back, shreds the guy repeatedly; laughs ensue. The management wisely uses restraint– Traci’s getting the better of the exchange, but they wait to see if the situation heads in a truly ugly direction before bringing the hammer down on him.

Mr. Heckler actually yells, “Git ‘er done!” a few times. Traci hammers him a little more, much to the delight of the rest of the audience.

Eventually, when our bouncer gives him the mild “talkin’ to,” he retreats to the lobby to catch a smoke, stopping by the office to complain about that sassy gal on stage.

In spite of all this, the sets go great. Mr. Looselips burbles and gurgles feebly during Brian’s set, but all the fight’s gone out of him. Brian labels him “our mascot,” when explaining his behavior to a group of late-arrivers and uses him as a comedic “cat toy” once or twice during the remainder of his set. Further disruption is minimal and the yocks from the put-downs enhance the set.

The show ends. Mr. Heckler Dude brags loudly, “I’m Brad Trackman‘s father!” Trackman, for those of you following along at home, is the scheduled headliner at this very venue June 23-24! (Correction: That’s 23-25– Editors)

Hmmm… We are sorely tempted to prop up Brian’s 88-year-old mother (who lives a scant five minutes from the club) in the back of the house– just in time for the late show Saturday on the 25th of June– ply her with two Manhattans and encourage her to blast little Brad with “Git ‘er done!” and “That’s what om talkin’ about!” She’s 88! She’ll do it for a coupla Manhattans and a lottery ticket!

Hey, Brad, tell your old man not to heckle the other members of your profession! Or, at the very least, just have him limit the heckling to your sets.

This has been a public service announcement from SHECKYmagazine.com.