Up in smoke

It was on Jonny Carson that it all fell apart. The air conditioning wreaking havoc with the balance of the smoke as the cancerous particles stubbornly refused to cling or to curl into those delicate hoops, and cloud after cloud dispersed in the mechanically cooled breeze. In still air he would direct these smoky bands with a sure hand and float them in a variety of directions with his gentle steer. Today though he couldn't even cough out a semi-circle, and openly, the audience mocked, derided, choked on their own guffaws. He continued in despairing vain, sensing with growing certainty there was no way home. Jonny Carson, now laughing, covered his mouth and shielded his moistening eyes from the audience. There are some things you never live down, and those are the things that never let you live.