So there's this old actor who's been out of the biz for a long time but decides he kind of misses the glitz and glam of his old life. So he calls up his agent and explains how he wants to get back in the game and wishes there was a small role in something that he can take just to get his feet wet again. His agent tells him he has the perfect role and puts him in touch with the director. The director calls and after the two exchange pleasantries the actor explains how it's been such a long time since he's had a role and he's very anxious about having to remember his lines and about rehearsing. "Don't worry about a thing" the director interjects. "Look, this is perfect. It's a live show, but all you have to do is walk out on the stage and say: Hark! I hear the cannon roar!" "That's it?" the old actor asked. "That's it" the director laughed, "piece of cake. You do this and you'll be a commodity again." "I see" the actor managed, more uncertain than before. "Alright, so see you in two weeks? Remember, Hark I hear the cannon roar!" An uneasy silence came over the line. "Well?" the director beckoned. "Alright, I'll do it!" the actor resolved. "Great!" elated, the director hung up. For the next two weeks the actor labored alone in his apartment, "Hark! I hear the cannon roar! Hark!...I hear the cannon...Roaar! Hark I hear the cannon roar! Hark...I hear...the cannon roar!" Quickly, slowly, whispering, screaming, pristinely sober, slobbering drunk...every conceivable intonation, day and night...At last opening night came. The actor donned his costume, sat in the make-up chair, and relished the commotion back stage as he waited for his cue. The curtain rose, confidently the old actor, as if starting to pedal a long forgotten bike, strode out onto the stage. He gazed out at the crowd, everyone eager and intently focused. With a dramatic flair he raised his hand, his finger pointed, and poised...opened his mouth. At that moment a thundering BOOOOOOOOOOM shook the entire theater. "What the *@# was that!?!" the actor shouted.