Dusty Rich was the golden god of chaos. Destined for the stratosphere. Instead, he’s a domestic hostage. A white-hot beast, caged by the suburbs. The microphone is gone. Swapped for nappy cream.

He doesn't do comedy. He is comedy. But nobody cares. The headliner is a blue cartoon dog. The manager is Mrs. Rachel. Dusty is just the opening act in his own living room. An extra in the movie of his life. Dreams? Gone. Needs? Irrelevant. The beast is quelled. The diaper is full. The tragedy is hilarious.

The world makes sense until it doesn’t. You’re young. You’re fast. Then you’re 41. The speed is still there, but the destination has changed. Dusty Rich is a frantic, chaotic anomaly.

For one hour, he’s tearing down the philosophy of the last four decades, destined for the greatest comedy stages and heights the universe had to offer, he is a stay at home Dad now. Every thought you’ve had? Challenged. Every stance you’ve taken? Crushed. It’s loose. It’s loud. It’s the sound of a mid-life crisis hitting the speed of sound. Come watch the collision.