Explosions rattled the bottles of black draught on the shelves in downtown Luckenbach. Smoke and the smell of powder drifted in the fierce heat. Cannons of all sizes fired nine shots each, five for the record. The fraternity cannon hit the outhouse four times out of five, Claire Bell and her crew hit it three, Tony and several others also claimed to have hit it three. "Those fancy guys," said Claire, pointing at the Reenactment Society, many of them shirtless now and sweating and rather disgruntled, "they never did hit it at all." The outhouse was still standing, but not for long. All the cannons were pulled forward 50 yards and arranged to deliver a broadside. "Put in a double canister. We'll hit it one way or another," said Randal Gilbert. A man and a woman strolled across the top of the levee. "Fire in the hole! Fire in the hole!" shouted the cannoneers.
Bam!...Bam!...Bam!...a raggedy broadside, the fuses burning down at different times. The smoke cleared. The outhouse had vanished. Blown to bits. "Far out!" yelled a cannoneer. The crowd cheered. Tony Bell was happy. "Next year the fair ought to draw cannons from all over the country," he said. "I'm hoping we can get a bigger range." The arts and crafts people feel the same way.