How a roast battle works, and how to win one

Where roast battles came from

The format started in August 2013 at the end of a late Tuesday open mic in the Belly Room, upstairs at The Comedy Store in Los Angeles. Two comics with a grudge were told to settle it by slap-boxing. They traded insults for three one-minute rounds instead, and the crowd loved it. Brian Moses built it into a regular show, hosting and refereeing. Jeff Ross became the main judge, and Comedy Central aired Jeff Ross Presents Roast Battle from July 2016. Clubs and bars in other cities now run their own roast battle nights, usually with house rules of their own.

The three rules

The original show runs on three rules. Your material has to be original, so no borrowed jokes and nothing pulled from the internet. There's no physical contact, however heated it gets. And every battle ends with a hug. That last rule matters more than it sounds. It tells the room this is a game between two people who agreed to play, which is what lets the jokes go hard. Local nights add their own house rules, so ask the host before you sign up: time per round, whether props are allowed, and what the room won't laugh at.

How the rounds work

Most battles run three rounds. The first version was three rounds of one minute each, and many rooms still use that. Some vary it. One early LA Weekly writeup describes a back-and-forth round, then a round where each comic gets 30 seconds to fire as many jokes as possible, then a final round. Comics usually alternate, so you hear their joke before you answer it. Plan for a short window. A one-minute round is maybe four or five tight jokes, not a story. Anything with a long setup is a joke you can't afford.

How a roast battle is judged

On the TV version a panel of guest judges picks each winner, with Jeff Ross on every show. At the club, crowd noise counts too: the host asks the room to cheer for each comic, and the loudest reaction helps decide the round. Judges reward writing. Lazy, nonspecific or repetitive insults are treated as out of bounds, and one Village Voice piece quotes the scene's view that the best writers win. Swearing louder doesn't score. A joke that only works on this one opponent does, because the room can tell you did homework.

Research your opponent like it's a job

Comics on the original show reportedly spent up to two weeks researching their opponents. You don't need that long, but you need more than a glance. Watch a clip of their set and note the bit they always do. Read their bio, their show flyers, their last few posts. Ask people who know them what they're famous for at the mic: always late, always hosting, always plugging something. Write down choices, habits and claims, never things they can't change. Ten specific facts about one person beat fifty general insults about anyone.

Turn facts into jokes

Each fact needs a picture. Weak: "Your jokes are old." Stronger: "He's done the same airport bit for three years. That joke has more frequent-flyer miles than he does." Weak: "Nobody comes to your mic." Stronger: "He runs a Thursday mic with a loyal crowd of four, and two of them are just there to charge their phones." Weak: "Your podcast is bad." Stronger: "His podcast has three Patreon tiers and one patron, so technically every tier is exclusive." The stronger versions add an invented detail one notch more specific than the truth, and end on the funny word.

Roast yourself before they do

Your opponent has a list about you too. Find the obvious one, the thing anyone would say about you within ten seconds, and spend one joke taking it off the table. "Before he says it: yes, I still live with my mom. She charges rent now, so I'm officially her worst tenant." It steals his best line and shows the judges you can take a hit. Then listen. When he leans on something you've heard him do before, say so. A quick answer to the joke he just told almost always beats a better joke you wrote last week.

Order and delivery

Open with a joke that's clearly about this person, so the room knows you came prepared. Put your strongest line last in each round and hold one in reserve in case a joke dies. Memorize everything. Reading off a phone in a battle looks like you outsourced it. Look at your opponent, not the floor, and say the line to them. Don't laugh at your own jokes. Let the groans happen, because a groan followed by a laugh is a win. If a joke dies, don't explain it. Go straight to the next one.

What loses the room

Jokes about bodies, health, identity or family tragedy usually get a gasp, then silence, and the judges notice. The roast lands when the target can laugh too, which is why battles work best between comics who know each other. Aim at what they chose: the act, the outfit, the side hustle, the ego. To get a first draft, Shutap, the AI joke generator for creators, can help: write up one real night your opponent bombed or one choice they made, pick the roast voice, and push against what comes back. Cut most of it. The lines you keep should sound like you.

Questions people ask

Sources

• Julie Seabaugh, "Roasts + Rap Battles = Roast Battle, the Hottest Thing in L.A.'s Comedy Scene", LA Weekly (September 10, 2014)
• Jessica Pilot, "The Roast Battle: 'Like Fight Club for Comedians,' Says Jeffrey Ross", The Village Voice (November 7, 2014)
• Sean Rameswaram, "Absolutely anything goes at The Comedy Store's Roast Battle", The World (January 8, 2015)
• Jeff Ross Presents Roast Battle, Wikipedia