The Roast of Ryan Reynolds

*(Strolls to center stage, adjusts mic, grins at the audience)* Ladies and gentlemen, I’m told we’re here to roast a man who has somehow convinced the world he’s the nicest guy in Hollywood while simultaneously giving New York tradesmen the silent treatment. Please welcome—if his contractor can find him—the one, the only, Ryan Reynolds. *(Polite applause, a few knowing chuckles)* Ryan, buddy. Let’s talk about your “personal brand.” You’re the guy who sold Aviation Gin for $610 million, then sold Deadpool jokes for even more. You’ve got $350 million in the bank. You could buy a small country. Instead, you decided to build a mansion in Lewisboro, New York… and then ghost the guys laying the foundation. *(Beat)* I’ll give you this—it’s a bold move. Most billionaires hide their money in offshore accounts. You hide yours by simply… not paying the electrician. “Hey, sorry, Bob, I’d love to cut you a check, but I just spent my liquid cash on a gin ad where I’m drinking martinis with Betty White’s ghost.” *(Pause)* You bought 110 acres in 2018. It’s 2026, Ryan. That’s eight years. You could have elected a president, lost a war, and rebuilt the Titanic in that time. Instead, you’ve built… a foundation. And a lawsuit. Five contractors hit you with $2.1 million in mechanics liens last April. That’s not a construction delay. That’s a cry for help from men in tool belts who are now forming a support group called “Survivors of Ryan Reynolds.” *(Leans in)* Let’s talk about the house itself. 14,500 square feet. A pool house. A gym. A “luxury compound.” For a guy with three daughters, a wife, and a soccer team he barely shows up for. You need a house that big so you can hide from the plumbers you owe money to. I hear your master bedroom has a panic room, but the only thing you’re panicking about is Dwayne Johnson returning your calls. *(Chuckles from the crowd)* And Wrexham FC. You co-own a Welsh football club. You know why you picked Wrexham? Because Average Joe Builder in Wrexham charges in pounds, not dollars. You can stiff them for £1.7 million and it sounds like a bargain. *(Longer pause, slow shake of head)* The real irony? You played Deadpool, a character who breaks the fourth wall and always pays his tabs. But in real life, you’ve broken the “pay your drywall guy” wall. You’re the only man who’s ever made a superhero costume look like a fugitive warrant. *(Warm, concluding tone)* Look, Ryan, we love you. You’re funny, you’re charming, you’ve got the wife everyone wants, and the gin everyone pretends to like. But buddy? Maybe next time, before you buy a 110-acre compound, set aside $2.1 million for the actual compound. Because right now, your “forever home” is just a really expensive camping trip—and the camp counselors are all lawyers. *(Raises glass)* To Ryan Reynolds. The man who has everything… except a completed basement. *(Cheers, fade to black)* — Delivered by Splouf.com, purveyors of premium nonsense