Patton Oswalt Brings Down The House At LaughFest. Literally. [Video/Photos]

Joe DeRosa, the opening act Friday night at the Fountain Street Church, 24 Fountain Street, joked that he saw death everywhere.

"That light fixture could suddenly fall on that woman, for instance". If only he had pointed at the LaughFest backdrop instead, he could have portended the strangest ending to a comedy show I've seen in my life.

Patton Oswalt had the loud and raucous crowd eating out of his hand most of the evening, he kicked off his hour and ten minute set by simply reading the sign that's in the green room where performers wait before coming out at the old church. It pays homage to the historicial figures who have graced the pulpit there, among them Eleanor Roosevelt, Helen Keller, and Linus Pauling. "That's a lot of pressure," Oswalt confided.

From that, everything was typical Oswalt, including some great story telling ("the worst show I ever did"), some clever interaction with the audience, which made sign making a recurring theme, and his love of overanalyzing Christmas songs with "The Little Drummer Boy" in the cross hairs this time. ("I'm pretty sure percussion and sleeping infants are a bad mix").

Oswalt has an endearing way of making the annoying realities of the human condition a little more bearable. Like most successful comics, he articulates what many of us think about, but can't articulate. For example, the idea that the cause of the long waits at places like the post office or the DMV isn't the fault of the government employees, but the clueless customers who have no focus, or are too dumb to understand simple directions.

But it was the way this show ended that will have the audience talking for years to come, not to mention it will probably be a Classic Oswalt bit in his future shows, and I can't wait to hear it.

After thanking the full house for their generous applause "I needed this, I really needed this," Patton launched into a story about a kid's party he was attending, where the host was concerned because the clown hadn't show up. "There, at the edge of the woods, was a clown," with that line, Oswalt went to hide behind the giant "LaughFest" backdrop sign at the back edge of the stage. The minute he got behind it, the whole strcture came crashing down on top of him, burying him in a mess of plastic signage, cloth, and support poles.

Crawling from the wreckage to loud applause, Oswalt slowly shook off the shock of what happened and took a seat at the altar of the church and began improvising with the pinkish lighting, eventually making the declaration, "I guess you could say I brought down the house. Literally."

With that, he regained his bearings, finished the story of the slacker clown, and departed to a well deserved standing ovation. Another memorable LaughFest performance, and one incident that may be a first in the history of the Fountain Street Church.