........The smoke from the black powder has  now covered the stage, while I appear to be sticking the worlds largest gun (still smoking) into the front of my pants, while Bill Hately, thinking I am about to blow off my family jewels in front of the whole world, is trying to grab my hand.  He then spotted the look on Ms. Blakes face, probably figured "Fair is fair" and moved over to the twitching form of Tommy and the crowd.  I recall there was some form of homily delivered to the crowd, by some one in the smoke, and then the play was over.  As the lights came up, there were some parents standing to applaud their kids, a man or two fanning a prostrate woman, and and several people coughing into their hands.

Ms. Blake was livid, and did the most amazing thing.  She yelled at me for over three minutes while never unclenching her teeth; I swear they never moved.  By then my father (a Navy Commander) had moved in, and in the course of questioning me in her presence, the whole story came out.  They went off, discussing my fathers favorite subject, "Adult Supervision";  pretty soon I heard laughter from both of them.  My family drove home that evening with my father, saying only two things, "Stop that incessant babbling", to my mother and younger sister (who were); and "Damn good thing you missed" (which, only owing to the length of time it took to pull the gun out of my pants, I had).

The next night, I used an anemic cap gun, which failed to go off..."
                       -  Don Moore, Jr.

 Thanks for sharing that. I played the Grandmother - I only had one line: 'He's always been a good boy.' This was said early in the play, and my mother was so fanatic about my being home at a certain time (I was 15) that she waited for me to say my line and then collected me and drove me home. I never saw the end of the play, and had to rent the video some years later to see it. So I missed this wonderful moment.
Kela Ruuskanen (aka Debbie Trottier)