He’s been at the Luxor for almost two decades. Seriously. Scott Thompson, the man everyone knows as Carrot Top, has outlasted almost every other residency on the Strip. People love to make fun of the orange hair and the trunks full of plastic junk, but you don't stay at a major MGM property since 2005 by being a hack. If you’re walking down the Las Vegas Strip and seeing those massive billboards, you’re probably wondering if the Carrot Top show Las Vegas is actually funny or just a relic of the 90s.
It’s fast.
Honestly, that’s the first thing that hits you when the lights go down in the Atrium Showroom. It’s a relentless, high-energy barrage of visual gags, pyrotechnics, and self-deprecating humor. Thompson knows exactly what people say about him. He leans into it. He’s ripped, he’s orange, and he’s clutching a Solo cup like his life depends on it.
The Anatomy of a Prop Comedy Masterclass
Most people think prop comedy is easy. It’s not. It’s actually incredibly difficult to time a punchline when you’re physically digging through massive trunks to find a "flotation device for a redneck" (which turns out to be a toilet seat). The Carrot Top show Las Vegas works because of the pacing. There is zero downtime. If a joke doesn't land, he's already onto the next trunk before you can even process the groan.
He uses a massive screen now, too. It’s not just the trunks anymore. He mocks Instagram influencers, local Vegas news clips, and celebrities with a level of vitriol that feels surprisingly edgy for a "family-friendly" looking ginger man. But make no mistake—this isn't a show for toddlers. It’s loud. There are strobe lights. There’s a lot of rock music. It feels more like a Motley Crüe concert than a standard stand-up set.
💡 You might also like: Greatest Rock and Roll Singers of All Time: Why the Legends Still Own the Mic
Why the Luxor Works for Him
The Atrium Showroom is weirdly perfect. It’s an intimate space tucked away on the second floor of the pyramid. You’re close enough to see the sweat. You're close enough to see the actual detail on the props, which are often surprisingly well-engineered.
I’ve seen comedy sets where the performer looks bored. Thompson never does. He looks like he just had six espressos and a shot of Jägermeister—which he actually shares with the front row sometimes. That connection is why the Carrot Top show Las Vegas stays booked. He isn't phoning it in from a mansion in Florida; he's there, six nights a week, giving the audience exactly what they paid for.
Beyond the Trunks: The Evolution of the Act
If you haven't seen him since his 1-800-CALL-ATT commercials, you might be surprised by the topicality. He updates the show constantly. While the core "hits" stay—like the Whitney Houston microphone or the Gallagher tribute—the filler is always changing based on whatever is happening in the news cycle.
- The Musical Integration: He uses sound cues better than almost any other comic in Vegas. The tech booth is essentially a second performer in the show.
- The Self-Awareness: He knows he’s a meme. He talks about the plastic surgery rumors. He talks about the muscles. By mocking himself first, he wins over the skeptics in the back row who were dragged there by their spouses.
- The Nostalgia Factor: For many, seeing Carrot Top is a bucket-list item. It’s like seeing the Bellagio Fountains or eating a $30 burger. It’s just part of the Vegas ecosystem.
Is the Carrot Top Show Las Vegas Good for Everyone?
Look, if you want high-brow, intellectual satire that makes you ponder the human condition, go see a play at The Smith Center. This is not that. This is a guy pulling a "redneck paper shredder" (a goat) out of a box. It’s silly. It’s loud.
📖 Related: Ted Nugent State of Shock: Why This 1979 Album Divides Fans Today
Some people find the strobe lights and the sheer volume to be a bit much. It’s an assault on the senses. But that’s the point. It’s Las Vegas. If you wanted quiet reflection, you wouldn't be in a giant black pyramid in the middle of the desert.
The ticket prices are actually one of the best deals on the Strip. While Cirque du Soleil shows are creeping toward $200 for decent seats, you can often find Carrot Top tickets for under $60 if you look at the right time. For a headliner of his stature, that’s basically a steal.
What You Need to Know Before You Go
Don't show up late. The venue is small, and the ushers are strict about seating once the pyro starts. Also, the "meet and greet" isn't always a formal thing you can buy, but he is notoriously one of the nicest guys in show business. He often hangs out near the stage door or mentions where he might be later.
- Location: Luxor Hotel & Casino, 3900 S Las Vegas Blvd.
- Duration: Approximately 75 to 90 minutes of pure chaos.
- Age Restriction: Usually 16+ due to some of the language and adult themes.
- Drink Policy: There’s a bar right outside the showroom. Grab a drink. It helps the jokes land even better.
The show is a reminder that comedy doesn't always have to be deep to be effective. Sometimes, you just need a guy with a suitcase full of nonsense to make you forget about your losses at the blackjack table for an hour.
👉 See also: Mike Judge Presents: Tales from the Tour Bus Explained (Simply)
The Verdict on the Orange Legend
The Carrot Top show Las Vegas is a survivor. It survived the decline of prop comedy, the rise of TikTok, and the total transformation of the Las Vegas Strip. That doesn't happen by accident. It happens because Scott Thompson is an obsessive perfectionist who treats his "toys" like fine instruments.
Whether you love him or think he’s the definition of "cringe," you have to respect the hustle. He’s a Vegas icon. Seeing him is a rite of passage. You'll leave the theater with your ears ringing and a weirdly genuine smile on your face, mostly because you can't believe you just laughed at a joke involving a toilet brush and a picture of Dr. Phil.
Actionable Steps for Your Trip
To get the most out of the experience, check the MGM Rewards app first. Often, if you’re staying at an MGM property, you can snag "two-for-one" deals or local discounts that aren't advertised on the main kiosks.
Plan to arrive at the Luxor at least 45 minutes early. The walk from the parking garage or the ride-share drop-off to the Atrium level can take longer than you think, especially if the casino floor is crowded.
Finally, skip the front row if you’re shy. He will talk to you. He will probably make fun of your shirt. If you want to watch the madness in peace, sit about ten rows back. The sightlines in the Atrium are excellent from almost every angle, so you won't miss a single prop.
Buy the tickets. Embrace the weirdness. It’s the most "Vegas" thing you can do on a Tuesday night.