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Quentin Tarantino doesn't know what he's in for

On December 1, Quentin Tarantino will get roasted by a bunch of inglourious so-and-sos at New York’s Hilton hotel, and I’m betting big bucks he’ll be a totally broken man, ready for the human trash heap, by the end of it. After all, Friars roasts are those splashy affairs where costars, comics, and “friends” take the podium to decimate you with personally attained humor and hilarious potshots gleefully derived at your superstar expense.

It’s all done out of love, of course—the Friars only obliterate people they deep-down-respect—but still, you’d have to have the backbone of a Christoph Waltz to get through this thing smiling.

Tarantino has already put out a statement claiming that he’ll get his revenge on the roasters, no doubt via his own vitriolic speech, which will dramatically end the ceremony. “I’m not coming to get my ass kicked,” he trumpeted. “I’m coming to kick ass!”

But the director’s handpicked roastmaster, Samuel L. Jackson, knows exactly how the deck is stacked, and he’s not the least bit worried. “Having known Quentin as long as I have now,” Jackson responds, “there are many stories I’ve kept tucked away for a moment like this. I’m not so sure he won’t regret asking me once the afternoon is over!”

Of course Jackson himself won’t exactly be off limits. While the best roasters go to satirical extremes mocking the shortcomings of the celebrity target, they also get to go after each other, making dog meat of everyone on the dais until it becomes a scene of human wreckage with nothing left but the echoing of rim shots.

At Pamela Lee’s infamous roast in ‘05, the blonde’s body, acting, and taste in men all came under attack, but roasters also took aim at Courtney Love (“How is it possible that Courtney looks worse than Kurt Cobain?” asked comic Jeffrey Ross) and Jimmy Kimmel (“A horse [defecating] on a parade route has a bigger following than Jimmy,” quipped Lisa Lampanelli.)

Not surprisingly, Hugh Hefner’s favorite joke at his own roast was about someone else. It was Jeffrey Ross’s line, “We were going to roast Larry Flynt, but no one wanted to build a ramp.”

But Tarantino enters the scene with a wealth of potential material about himself–his intimidating presence, his membership in MENSA, and his really unusual hair. I wish I could have my own turn at the mic so I could relate the time when a publicist dragged me over to interview the up-and-coming auteur at a party for his movie and he blithely said, “I’d rather not.” Since then, I’ve reported on his various relationship messes and even the time I caught him talking to himself in the street, upon which I instantly stopped conversing with myself and blogged about it. With love, of course.