Chapter 57

I GUESS THIS IS THE END

Judy Nazemetz, the comedian who was nice to me in New York and Boston, kills big.

In comedy, killing is a good thing.

She slays the audience. Has them rolling in the aisles.

Ray Romano even comes up to her at the microphone after her set to personally congratulate her. Robin Williams gives her a standing ovation. Ellen DeGeneres is so thrilled, she’s dancing. With Chris Rock.

Near the end of the hourlong show, Little Willy Creme comes on in what would’ve been my spot and basically bombs. Nobody in the TV audience or the diner laughs at any of his material. Not even Vincent O’Neil.

“Hey!” says Vincent. “He stole that doctor joke from me!”

When Little Willy is done (as in burnt toast), Ray Romano comes back onstage holding an envelope. He is ready to announce the “eight comedians moving on to Hollywood” for the finals.

But first, the offscreen announcer has to tell us how the kids heading out to Los Angeles will be the stars of a one-week reality TV show.

“Our Planet’s Funniest Kid Comic camera crews will follow our nine finalists around Tinseltown as they prepare for the biggest performances of their young lives!”

“Wow,” says Romano when he comes back onscreen. “You kids could become stars and make a ton of money. In my house, my wife gets all the money I make. I just get an apple and clean clothes every morning.”

Everyone laughs.

Romano rips open the envelope and reads a list of eight names.

Judy Nazemetz is moving on to the finals. Little Willy is not.

Music starts. The announcer says something like “Join us in two weeks for…”

I aim the remote at the TV. Snap it off.

I don’t want to hear any more about everything I could’ve had.

If I do, I might have to check myself into Uncle Frankie’s old ICU room. Because my heart is breaking.

Can I tell you guys a big secret?

This is just between us, okay?

All I ever wanted was to be in the finals of the comedy contest. I didn’t need to win. But I needed to show the world that no matter what life tossed at me, I’d figure out how to laugh my way through it.

I’d also like to maybe, someday, have a chance to walk again.

And I thought being on TV, maybe landing a talent agent and booking a couple of paying gigs, might give me a shot at the walking thing, too. Let’s face it—operations and medical miracles cost money.

Well, anyway…

Zero out of two isn’t so bad, right?

And I’m sorry my story has such a lousy ending.