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The Royal Roast

Dusty Rhodes

April 3, 2006 

Welcome back everyone, it's great to see you.  Grab your forks and knives, folks, because today we're going to roast a big, fat pig.

So today we're graced by the presence of Dusty Rhodes.  Dusty loves to tell us in every single interview that he's the "son of a plumber."  Son of a plumber this, son of a plumber that.  Please Dusty, enough about your mother.

I realize some of you newer fans might only remember Dusty from the WWF.  You know, when Vince made him wear yellow polk-a-dots?  Rumor has it Vince did that because polk-a-dots make people look fatter.  Hey Dusty, I hate to break it to you.  It wasn't the polk-a-dots that made you look fat; it was the fat that made you look fat.

And what was with those polk-a-dots anyway?  All those yellow dots, yeah that was attractive.  It looked like Big Bird shot a bunch of loads on your chest.

And Dusty, what's with that big red mark near your armpit?  By any chance, did you ever f*ck Mikhail Gorbachev’s head?

Jeez, I loved your booking stint in TNA.  You remember, when you made Traci Brooks and Trinity fight over you?  That was real believable.  If you want women to fight over you, just tell them that whoever loses gets to suck your disgusting c*ck.

All those women fighting must have reminded you of your relatives when you were a kid.  The only difference was they were all fighting over the last piece of pizza. 

You and Stephanie McMahon are buddies now, and you both demand respect for the influence you've had on wrestling.  Well, you DO deserve respect for your influence on food.  After all, the image of you two in bed together influenced chefs to create a new food: Pigs in a Blanket.

What's with calling yourself the "American Dream?"  Oh yeah, that's my dream: to look like a big, fat gross slob who twirls his elbows in the air with my belly flab flapping in the breeze.  

Actually, I take that back.  Yes Dusty, you ARE the American Dream.  You still manage to get people to hire you despite the fact that you've failed at every f*cking job you’ve ever had.    

The name "Dusty Rhodes" is interesting.  Everyone knows that name was taken from a famous baseball player from decades ago.  But why baseball?  I think your sport is bowling.  After all, you look like you’ve swallowed about 23 bowling balls.

Whatever you do, Dusty, please don’t burp.  I’m in no mood to smell Ole Anderson’s j*zz.

Dusty, as you know, is a 3-time NWA champion.  It would've been more, but they couldn’t fit any more notches on the belt to fit him.  

Dusty was a huge icon in Florida.  Hulk Hogan is also from Florida, and Vince McMahon has a condo there as well.  Apparently Florida is no longer the "Sunshine" state."  It's the "Egomaniac Who Loves Himself to Death and Can’t Stay Away from the Spotlight No Matter How Many People Hate Him" state.

I used to think Dusty Rhodes had the worst genetics in the world.  But then I realized there is one person in the world with even worse genetics: his son, Dustin. 

When I was 5 years old and couldn't sleep, my mother told me to close my eyes and count the number of pounds Dusty Rhodes weighs.  I'm now 29, and I’m still not done counting.

That's some finisher you got, the Bionic Elbow.  Let me tell you, I've seen Dusty in person, and the only thing bionic about him are the nails in the chairs he sits in, that fat f*ck.

Dusty's a sh*tty booker, but a fantastic magician.  Abracadabra, make Dusty your booker and presto, watch all the crowds disappear.

For years, WCW was unjustly criticized for not providing catering backstage.  Totally untrue.  The catering was there; Dusty just ate it all before anyone got there.

It was Dusty's idea to bring in Vader on Raw last year.  You know, when Vader tripped and fell on his ass?  Vader looked fat, slow, old, and immobile...  hey wait a minute... how do we know that wasn't just Dusty Rhodes in a Vader mask?

I see Dusty came to the roast in a parachute, which is very brave of him.  Oh wait, that's not a parachute, that’s his underwear.

Dusty, of course, has been known to exaggerate quite a bit.  You know, tell a few lies here and there.  Dusty, I'm not saying you're full of sh*t, but whenever you hit a speed-bump, black stuff comes oozing out of your ears, nose, mouth, and ass.

Everyone knows Dusty's true goal is to make it in Hollywood as a sit-com star.  There's definitely interest, but unfortunately they haven’t invented cameras with a wide enough lens to film him yet.

Seriously Dusty, you should make it big in Hollywood.  You're what they call a real "A-List" celebrity... if "A" stood for a**hole.

Someone you really gotta feel sorry for is Dusty's wife.  That poor woman has to shove eight Twinkies in her mouth just to get Dusty to French kiss her.  

WWE was going to induct Dusty into their Hall of Fame this year, but rumor has it they want to do it next year instead.  That way, apparently, Dusty won't get lost in the shuffle.  Hey WWE, I've seen Dusty's cholesterol levels, and I suggest you induct him ASAP because he may not be alive by the time next year comes around.  Can you say ‘heart attack waiting to happen?’

Have you ever seen Dusty's matches from the '70s?  A big fat guy with frizzy hair, saggy eyes, and red blood all over his face.  He didn't look like a wrestler, he looked like Bozo the Clown.

People say Dustin Rhodes ruined his career by being Goldust, but I sympathize.  After all, if my father was Dusty Rhodes, I'd disguise myself as a transvestite in make-up too.

I sure hope no one ever catapults Dusty into outer space.  He's so fat and round that scientists might mistake him for a new planet.

It's still amazing to me that WWE hired Dusty Rhodes to be their writer.  Writer?  Sorry guys, but shouldn't someone you hire as a writer be able to read and write in the first place?

It's nothing personal, big Dust.  I know you're hooked on wrestling, but unfortunately you need to be Hooked on Phonics too.

Not to freak you out, Dusty, but you know things are bad when Abdullah the Butcher calls you fat.

Dusty loves the spotlight, but it's a shame that he's more likely to win Manboob Mania than WrestleMania.

I heard Dusty's new DVD will be a 5-disc set; that's one disc for each chin.

Take it from me, guys, don't feed Dusty any pork and beans.  One blast from Dusty's a** will empty a room faster than one of his early 90s WCW PPV line-ups.

I think the fastest way for Dusty to lose weight is for him to weigh himself without his enormous ego.

Let's give Dusty some credit.  When he wrestles on a show, it's standing room only.  And he's the only one there.

Dusty's matches are so void of heat that you can literally hear a pin drop.  Just don't let the pin drop on Dusty, because he might pop like the gigantic f*cking balloon that he is.

Now Dusty, don't get too mad at me.  After all, I know where you live.  Well, no I don't.  But if I ever want to find out where you do live, I'll just ask the local pizza delivery guy.

Believe it or not, I feel some sort of connection with the Rhodes family.  I do have something in common with both Dusty and Dustin: we've all f*cked Marlena.

Hey Dusty, if you want to make your muscles bigger, just rub toilet paper on them.  Why, you ask?  I don't know, but it worked on your a*.

I'm sure if any of us had a wish in life, it would be to fly.  Who wouldn't want to fly in the air?  Sounds fun to me.  Well I have good news.  If you want to fly, now you can.  Just sit on a see-saw and have Dusty sit on the other end.

I kept scratching my head wondering why HHH would hire you to be a writer for WWE.  Then it dawned on me.  OF COURSE Triple H likes Dusty, because they both have one thing in common: they're drop-dead jealous of Ric Flair.

People always call the booker the "pencil," because they always have a pencil in their hand.  If we're going to call people by what they're always holding in their hand, I guess we shouldn't call Dusty the "pencil," we should call him the "Buffalo wing."

As some of you may know, Dusty recently turned 60.  Happy Birthday, man.  I hear they gave him a surprise party, which was nice.  If you really want to surprise Dusty, show him something he has never, ever seen before: the inside of a gym.

And finally, I'll end with a joke that will totally ruin me, kill business, make sure no one ever comes back to see me, and leave people totally and completely disappointed and frustrated with me.  I call it the "Dusty Finish."  Goodnight everyone.