Talk about the comedy show from hell. In 1991, Pittsburgh comedian David Kaye and another local stand-up were oddly booked to open for a forgettable metal cover band at a theater in Greensburg, a town unschooled in comedy club etiquette.

Darryl Sapp, Post-Gazette Comedy this weekend featuring David Kaye Click photo for larger image. April Fools' Weekend of Comedy featuring David Kaye with Melanie Maloy When: 9 tonight, plus B. Billy Braddock. Where: Holiday Inn Select, 164 Fort Couch Road, Bethel Park, 412-833-5300. Tickets: $10 advance, $12 door; 412-913-6398. When: 9 p.m. Saturday, plus Michael Whatule. Where: Days Inn, 127 W. Byers Ave., New Stanton, 724-925-3591. Tickets: $10 advance, $12 door; 412-913-6398. When: 7:30 p.m. Sunday, dinner show plus Mike Veneman. Where: Rostraver Ice Garden, Verso Room, Rostraver, 724-379-7100. Tickets: $15 includes dinner; 412-913-6398. Melanie Maloy is funny -- just like a dude

The mistress of ceremonies had barely begun her routine when the heckling started. It wasn't the typical comedy room give-and-take -- a handful of metal-heads shouted down her show with a barrage so vulgar and personally insulting that she left the stage in tears. Protective of his friend, mad at the house for not cracking the whip on the crowd and furious at the jerks in the audience, the middle act raced onto the stage.

Ladies and gentleman: David Kaye.

Dominating the theater in a slick purple pimp suit, blond hair spiked in a Don King 'do, Kaye abandoned his standard routine and charged like an episode of "When Comedians Attack." Five minutes into a pointed nonstop rant about inbred Westmoreland County rednecks and what individual loudmouths in the crowd do with their mothers, management abruptly cut the lights and dropped the curtain on him.

"They didn't want to pay. Ha! I had to talk the booker into giving us the money," says Kaye. "I actually picked her up and turned her upside down and shook her, but she paid me. You could call it assault, but when the guy's wearing a purple suit and his hair is standing on end, it's just fun."

Since then, the wise guy of the Pittsburgh comedy circuit -- a regional comedian with a notorious reputation as an occasionally combative smart aleck -- has mellowed both on stage and off. The purple suit is on hangers, the 'do is dead, and Kaye's retooled act pokes fun at the universal themes of work, home and family.

This weekend Kaye headlines a series of shows throughout the region appropriately billed The April Fools' Weekend of Comedy.

In the mid-1980s, with several stand-up comedy showcases on TV and Tom Hanks and Sally Field starring in "Punchline," comedy clubs were booming across the country. Pittsburgh had several, including the original Funny Bone Comedy Club and a Wednesday-night comedy showcase across Route 51 at the Roman Garden. That's where Kaye, a mechanical engineer from Crafton, cracked his first jokes for a paying crowd.

"My jokes were, let's say, not appreciated at work," he says. "I saw this sign for comedy night, checked it out and thought, 'I can do better.' "

But, as Kaye soon learned, comedy's no laughing matter.

"I was horrible," he says. "I had a few jokes that I had heard at work and twisted them around a little -- mostly freewheeling thoughts that I thought everyone would find funny."

After watching Dennis Miller at the Funny Bone, however, witnessing the maturing material of up-and-comers Tim Allen and Howie Mandel, and studying the brilliance of George Carlin and Garry Shandling, Kaye began crafting a comic image.

"I started writing material that was really left of center," he says, "written for the character that I wanted to be on stage but not quite right for my voice. I'll never forget an open-stage night at Graffiti. I was doing my little shtick, and it was going nowhere. I kind of ran my fingers through my hair in frustration and my hair stood on end. I finished the act and people laughed. The next week the waitress said, 'I want to do something to your hair for you, because it worked,' and I let her."

Darryl Sapp, Post-Gazette David Kay and Melanie Maloy, together this weekend. Click photo for larger image.

The spiked hair spiked the laughter, and Kaye honed his material to reflect his new hirsute persona.

"It was a smart-ass character," he says, "kind of an angry, vindictive comic."

Kaye performed locally, booked some comedy rooms, toured regionally as a middle act and headlined at second-tier venues and colleges.

"It was tough if you didn't have the same ZIP code as people in New York or L.A.," he says. "The comics who were getting the development deals were from there. So I moved to L.A. and worked the West Coast for a while, but I have close ties to my family and that made it difficult. My ties to [Pittsburgh] were so strong it was hard to break them."

In 1996, Kaye was booked behind bars following an arrest for cocaine possession. The embarrassing gig changed his show and his life.

"Best thing that's happened to me," he deadpans. "It really opened my eyes. Now I've got a clean head and 10 years of sobriety under my belt, my comedy has blossomed, and my writing skills got better."

Kaye exiled his wise-guy character and crafted new material that's personal and comically confessional.

"I pushed the old character away and focused on material that comes from inside me," he says, "stuff about my family, my upbringing."

Kaye returned to school and got a theater degree from Pitt, married in 2000 and has a 3-year-old daughter. For two years, he was part of the Star 100.7 morning radio team, where he augmented the banter with funny, faux commercials and "special" reports. Last year, he earned favorable reviews for a supporting role in a West Virginia Public Theatre production of "42nd Street."

Since the Improv opened at the Waterfront, resulting in two competing comedy clubs, local stand-ups say they're forced to choose sides, unable to perform at both stages. After years at the Funny Bone, Kaye says he's landed at the Improv, where he recently recorded an album that he calls "Full Frontal Comedy."

"I think some people infer the wrong idea from that," he says. "It's not dirty material. It's that [figuratively] I'm naked in front of them. I don't have an ax to grind anymore; I'm just out there chopping wood."