Let’s start with what we can’t start with: the Fifty Shades of Grey multipurpose, movie-watching companion device—practical, but with a hint of kink. Family-friendly we may be, but Carrot Top, its inventor, isn’t quite as circumspect, for which we can only giggle and blush—and admire the off-center comedian’s warped imagination.
Specifics on the nifty Fifty contraption? See his show. Other creations—which made the joke-a-second, red-curled imp a prop-comic king—are more describable. There’s one of his earliest: the life-size replica of an old woman’s head that could be worn by senior citizen drivers so other drivers can see them. Or, of more recent vintage—the Miley Cyrus mask with a drill for a tongue (joke explanation unnecessary).
“Years ago I was in a junk yard and I saw a little mini-toilet. What’s funny about a mini-toilet? So I took it and figured I’d come up with something,” says Carrot Top, aka Scott Thompson, providing a peek into his uniquely wired brain, which urged him to attach a plate. “It became a plate for bulimics—eat and throw up, eat and throw up,” he says. “I’ll never forget Garry Shandling (who passed away on March 24), when we were guests on The Tonight Show, and afterward he came over, he said, ‘A plate for bulimics—I (colorful profanity) love it, it floored me!’ I got 10 years of mileage with that.”
To borrow a phrase: He’s got a million of ’em. Rather than an expression, that might be literally true as he pulls scores of oddball inventions out of several onstage trunks during a preshow visit at the Luxor; most of his imagination’s output is stored in an off-property warehouse.
“From birth to mirth, I love seeing the process, to make it and see it work is like your baby,” says Thompson, who constructs props with the aid of a couple of assistants, largely at the theater. “You would never know from my house,” he says. “No signs of Carrot Top there. I’m surrounded by all this madness here, so when I go home, I want to be normal. But I make them as often as I can think of them,” he adds, and that’s often one or two per day to service his oft-changing act that reacts to current events. Lately, that would include a trash can overlaid with Donald Trump-like hair. And Bernie Sanders’ pet—a leash on a toy baby dinosaur. And a Hillary Clinton pantsuit with a bikini sewn in because—here’s the gag—she never takes off the pantsuit. And a Flint, Mich., water bottle (yes, brown).
Where did the prop-gag wit begin? Flash back to Thompson’s days as a Florida college student, when he dabbled in standard stand-up that needed a goose—and got it when he swiped a “Neighborhood Crime Watch” sign, stashing it in his dorm room.
“Everybody said, ‘Where did you get the sign?’ I said, ‘I took it—and how good is their crime watch if I’m taking their sign?’ It was funny and a friend said I should open with that. And there’s a street in Boca Raton called Butts Road and I said, ‘That’s where the (uh, jerks, but with a slang anatomical flair) live.’ Or one that said, ‘Slow, Children at Play.’ But on the sign they had no feet. So the joke was, ‘No wonder the children are slow. They have no feet.’”
To borrow another phrase: The rest is comedy history.
Today, his is a multimedia production, with video images replacing some props, though the latter are still his show’s heart and soul. “I search and search to find materials to make the props. The antique stores have a lot of stuff. Savers (thrift store) has a whole area in the back with a lot of random stuff. I’ll often go, not even have a prop in mind, just to see what’s there. It might trigger something.”
Something like … a kids’-style cups-and-string phone, with smaller cups for conference calling, call forwarding and caller ID (a favorite of the late George Carlin). Or an oversized Hooters job application with breast cutouts for busty applicants to “fill out.” Or a supermarket cashier-lane item divider shaped like a picket fence because, well, it’s “friendlier.” Or an EPT/map combo, so once pregnancy is confirmed, you can beat it outta town. Or a bong for people with glaucoma. Or lingerie with egg-timers on the breasts to time-limit foreplay.
Yup, he’s got a million—or more—of ’em.
Luxor, 8 p.m. Wed.-Mon., $49.95-$59.95 plus tax and fee, 16+. 702.262.4400