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Before Steve Martin could find the right words to speak to Elvis Presley, the King reached beneath his clothing and pulled out a gun. Then another appeared. And then, astonishingly, a third.
It sounds like a scene invented for a Hollywood comedy, but Martin insists that this unforgettable encounter really happened. Long before he became one of America’s most celebrated comedians and film stars, Martin was still a young performer struggling to establish himself. Around 1970–71, he was working as an opening act for Ann-Margret and her husband, Roger Smith, in Las Vegas.
One night, Elvis arrived backstage to visit Ann-Margret, his former Viva Las Vegas co-star and longtime friend. Martin immediately recognized the unmistakable figure approaching him. Elvis was dressed dramatically in white, wearing the kind of large belt that had already become part of his legendary stage image.
For the young comedian, the moment felt almost unreal. Elvis was not simply another entertainer. He was one of the most famous men alive—a cultural phenomenon whose music, movies and appearance had transformed popular culture.
Elvis had apparently watched Martin’s unusual comedy routine. Rather than offering a predictable compliment, he reportedly told him, “Son, you have an oblique sense of humor.”
It was an unexpectedly perceptive observation. Martin’s early comedy deliberately rejected traditional joke-telling. His performances mixed absurdity, magic tricks, banjo music and exaggerated confidence, often leaving audiences unsure whether the joke was onstage or sitting among them.
But before Martin could decide how to continue the conversation, Elvis suddenly asked a startling question: “Wanna see my guns?”
Martin said yes.
According to his recollection, Elvis first produced a derringer. Yet one detail made the encounter even more fascinating: Elvis carefully removed the ammunition before handing the weapon to Martin. He then brought out another gun, unloaded it and passed it over as well. The same process continued until Martin found himself holding three firearms while Elvis stood nearby holding approximately 18 bullets.
The image is both alarming and strangely funny: a young comedian meeting the King of Rock and Roll backstage, only to end up with three unloaded guns in his hands.
Martin’s story also reveals something complicated about Elvis during this period. Presley was fascinated by firearms and was known to carry weapons. By the beginning of the 1970s, security had become a serious concern in his life. His extraordinary fame brought obsessive fans, threatening messages and a growing sense that danger could appear at any moment.
Yet Martin’s account does not describe Elvis behaving recklessly. Instead, he remembered Presley as surprisingly safety-conscious, unloading each weapon before allowing someone else to examine it. That small gesture offers a revealing contrast: Elvis could be theatrical and unpredictable, but he also understood the danger of what he carried.
The encounter lasted only a short time, but Martin never forgot it. He later retold the story with the perfectly controlled timing of a master comedian, allowing the situation’s absurdity to speak for itself. He did not need to exaggerate. Meeting Elvis Presley was already remarkable; finishing the conversation while holding three of the singer’s guns made it almost impossible to believe.
Perhaps the most memorable detail, however, was Elvis’s description of Martin’s comedy as “oblique.” Behind the white outfit, enormous belt and unexpected collection of weapons was a performer perceptive enough to recognize another artist’s originality before the rest of America fully understood it.
Steve Martin entered the room as a nervous young entertainer wondering what he could possibly say to Elvis Presley. He left with a story that would follow him for the rest of his life—a surreal backstage memory involving the King, three guns and 18 bullets.
