Vince told me Goldust was perfect for me. He had a very clear idea of Goldust’s characteristics and how he should look. It was like a cross-dresser wearing a robe and wig in a gold suit. The wig is a touchy subject with me even to this day. I wear the wig now because it’s my character and it’s entertainment. But back then I was thinking, “Man, this is a little much.” I knew how creative Vince was, so I just listened to him and had faith that everything he said would work out.
I did some serious stuff as Goldust, and there were many times Vince told me we had to pull it back a little. Here was this androgynous, cross-dressing country-western Texan. In a lot of ways, Vince filled a father role for me at the time. I’m sure he knew my dad and I were having problems. Maybe that’s why he brought Goldust to me in the first place. But he warned me there could be problems with the character.
“Dustin, you’re going to have some problems with some of the boys, but don’t do anything crazy. I want you to call me.”
I wondered if Vince hadn’t come up with this character for me to take my dad down a notch. My dad had become larger with WWE than Dusty Rhodes had ever been in Florida or with WCW. Whatever the reason, I decided the take the opportunity and run with it, just like my dad would have. Only this time, I wanted to run right out of his shadow.
At first it all was a little overwhelming. I was very nervous because I didn’t want the character to flop. I started thinking that maybe Vince was trying to put me down because he had an issue with the Rhodeses. All my insecurities were rising to the surface and making me crazy. But Vince never wavered. He kept saying, “Dustin, you are going to get a lot of trouble from the boys, the fans. Just call me and we’ll talk about it.”
I had no idea what he was talking about until it actually started to happen. He was very hands-on for the first six months to a year. I took every direction, and Vince helped me bring the character to life. In one of the first promos I did, Vince didn’t like the way I was talking. He wanted something more. I tried different voices and finally we nailed it. I created a couple of catchphrases, and that was the breakthrough. “You will always remember the name of Goldust” and “You will never forget the name of Goldust.” I don’t know where those phrases came from. It wasn’t scripted at all. Goldust was a real calm, freaky, weird, bizarre character, and I was getting more and more comfortable with him. I knew people were thinking and wondering what was going on. “This guy is wacko. That’s Dustin Rhodes, what is that boy thinking?” It was awesome.
Vince never does anything halfway. He gave me an opportunity and helped me make as much out of it as I could. Throughout the first year he was right there with me. I was nervous as hell, but he’d calm me down and let me know everything would be fine. And as soon as the red light came on, I’d walk out and everything clicked. I did a lot of interviews with Vince one-on-one in the ring when he was still commentating ringside.
Bringing the house down with Savio.
There was a lot to learn, especially for an old-school wrestler who was about to become a bad guy for the first time. Then there was the issue of becoming this character that was completely at odds with who I am as a person. It was really difficult. I started with Bob Holly on the live-event shows trying to hone my heel skills and develop the character. But for the first six months it just wasn’t working well. I was slowly learning how to be a bad guy, but the character wasn’t coming out. Vince stayed behind me the whole time. He saw something. He kept talking about the nature of the character. I can’t remember who suggested I do something in the ring that had definite sexual overtones. At first I resisted anything like that, but finally, I decided to try something to get the character over. That’s when Savio Vega really helped me.
The moment I did something that left no doubt as to Goldust’s orientation, the crowd went nuts. It was like turning on a light switch. It was that easy. I locked up with Savio and he said, “Go behind me, take your gold hands, and rub up and down on my chest.” I did exactly as Savio directed, then I scampered out of the ring like a coward when he charged me. Everybody went crazy. The fans were screaming, calling me every derogatory name you can think of. It was automatic. I felt it immediately. So I got back in the ring and we locked up again in the corner. Savio said, “Spin me around, turn around, and just shake your butt in my crotch.” He pushed me out of the corner and started charging me, and I just ran out of the ring again. They went absolutely ballistic. The response from the audience told me all I needed to know about how to get a reaction. Then running out of the ring got another, larger reaction because the fans were furious that this guy wouldn’t get in there and fight Savio fairly.
When it was time for me to whip him, I got on top of him and started rubbing myself, making it look like I was enjoying being on top of this guy. We brought down the house that night, when I figured out how to do the character. I think it actually helped Savio, too, in terms of his popularity. I remember Vince came to one of the shows that followed in Hartford. He said, “I’ve been hearing some good things about you and Savio, so I’m here to see what all the talk is about.” When you make Vince laugh, especially when he’s at the curtain with all the other boys, you know you’ve done something right. That night it was unbelievable when I came through the curtain after the match. The boys were all saying, “You wouldn’t believe it. Vince was popping for you. Vince was going crazy over your act.” Vince showed that to the other boys, but to me he was more reserved. “Dustin, that was very good. Very entertaining. We’re going to take Goldust to the Garden in New York.”
Savio and I would draw out the match over twenty to twenty-five minutes and hold the attention of the audience the entire time. We were working hard, but Savio, along with Vince, were the guys who helped get Goldust over.
The suit was extremely hot. I’m used to it now, but it’s vinyl and everything on my body is covered. All the pores in my face are covered by the paint, I have gloves, and it is hotter than hell. I used to unzip the suit about halfway down during the match because I was overheating out there. I’d get back behind the curtain and I couldn’t get out of the suit fast enough. But as time went on, I was getting in better shape and adjusting to the costume.
Vince followed through and we took the show to Madison Square Garden. Now, Savio is Puerto Rican and there were a lot of Puerto Ricans in the crowd in New York. We were on the undercard, but we took over the place. We gave them the same kind of match that Vince liked in Hartford, and the crowd nearly got out of control. They were out of their minds. They were so riled up that guys were jumping the rails trying to get to me. The place was sold out and the atmosphere was wild.
The match ended and I walked back through the curtain. I lay down right on the cement floor. I was so hot and exhausted that I could barely breathe. Meanwhile, Savio didn’t win, but he was standing in the ring holding up my Intercontinental title belt. Vince leaned over and said, “Man, that was good. You okay?” I told him I was fine, but I needed help to get out of the suit because it was a new one, not completely broken in yet. “Do you feel like going back out there and getting some heat so we can bring this back here next month?” I pulled myself up and said, “Okay.”
I didn’t know what to do. I ran out there and swung my arm right up between Savio’s legs and got him with a shot that knocked him right down. I hit him boom, boom, boom, and left the ring. The fans were beside themselves. I knew Savio wouldn’t be upset. He might not have known what exactly was coming, but he knew something was going on and he just went with the flow.
With Terri as Marlena.
The next month we were the semimain event and we sold out the Garden again. This time we had an even better match. At one point I nearly caused a riot with all those Puerto Ricans in the crowd. I grabbed the microphone and said, “If you Puerto Ricans don’t shut up, I’m going to come out there and stick my tongue in each and every one of your throats.” They went berserk.
In the beginning, Vince put me with Scott Hall, who was Razor Ramon. Terri
was at WWE with me at this point, and although things weren’t great between us, life was moving on. But Razor and I didn’t click. He didn’t like all this suggestive stuff I was doing in the ring. Marlena, which was Terri’s character, was like my director. We had an usher boy, Richie, and we’d all sit in director chairs near the ring. I’d be watching Razor wrestle and start rubbing on myself. I sent roses to the ring from Goldust. At one point I walked up to the ring and unzipped my suit while he was beating up his opponent. I stood there licking my lips, then pulled open my suit. I had a big heart painted onto my chest with Razor’s name through the middle of it. Razor charged out of the ring after me.
When it came time for us to meet for the Intercontinental Championship on Pay-Per-View, Razor didn’t want anything to do with Goldust. Scott and I were on good terms, but he wasn’t comfortable with Goldust. He said it was because his kids were at home watching their father on television and he didn’t want them seeing another man coming on to their dad that way. Granted, it was a bit much. I didn’t really understand or appreciate his perspective at the time because I was just playing a character and doing what I was told. That’s when I called Vince and told him I was having issues with Scott.
“You told me to call if I had any problems, Vince. I’m just trying to do the character and he’s making it difficult. What should I do?”
Vince told me not to worry about anything. “We’re going with you, Dustin. Just keep doing what you’re doing.” Once in a while Razor would go and talk to Vince, but he’d come out all droopy faced. Vince made it clear he was going with me, and that’s all there was to it. For me, that was awesome. Scott had a hard time with it, no question. It all came to a head over in Europe. We were doing our run over there when I hurt my knee in the first minute of one of the first matches. We had to end that match fast because I needed to get to the hospital. We went a couple more days on the tour, but I couldn’t work and eventually had to return home. One night we were on a bus heading back to the hotel from one of the shows, and I was drinking a couple beers. Everybody knew Scott’s issues. He started getting a little lippy with me. All those guys on the bus were friends: Kevin Nash, Shawn Michaels, and Scott. He just kept running his mouth. I gave it right back at him. As we pulled up to the hotel we were raising our voices. The bus was unloading, but Shawn stayed back as kind of a mediator between Scott and me. We weren’t quite to the point where we were going to throw down, but it was pretty intense verbally. We both got to the point where we started crying. We left the bus and we were okay, but it wasn’t long after that night that Scott asked for his release from WWE.
Razor wasn’t a big Goldust fan.
He was such a huge star doing all these good things with Kevin, Shawn, and X-Pac. They were like a band of brothers. And here I came in as this outsider doing something that was ahead of its time, on the cutting edge, and working him. Whether his kids were watching or not was irrelevant to me. If he didn’t want them watching their father on television, then he should have had the power to make sure they didn’t watch. I think it turned out to be just too much for him. I don’t know. Maybe he didn’t feel he was getting what he expected out of the deal.
Everything was leading up to a match in Miami, where Scott is from. We had come back from Europe and he was chasing my championship. We built up the angle over a couple months and the culmination was supposed to be a Miami Street Fight that would be shown via satellite at WrestleMania XII at the Pond in Anaheim, California.
Goldust had arrived and the best part of it all was straight ahead. I’m sure Scott couldn’t see what was coming, how awesome it would be. I didn’t even recognize what was about to happen.
Facing off against Piper, with a little help from Marlena.
SIX
THE HARD WAY
My greatest moment in my career started with another phone call from Vince McMahon.
We had just finished taping a television show and I was about to head back home. Razor had left the company a couple weeks earlier and WrestleMania XII was a couple weeks away. Vince called and said, “We’re flying out to Los Angeles tomorrow morning.”
I had no idea what was about to take place. I flew out to Los Angeles with Vince, Bruce Prichard, and Rowdy Roddy Piper. We all got into a limousine and headed to Universal Studios. Along the way, Vince and Bruce explained a concept that would become known as the Backlot Brawl. It sounded awesome. I recognized it was a big step for me personally. Roddy didn’t have a problem with Goldust or what we were about to do. He’s up for anything.
I had started to take painkillers pretty heavily after my knee injury in Europe. I blew out my left knee, but thankfully I didn’t need complete reconstructive surgery. I had an arthroscopic procedure that relieved some of the pain, but after a while I was taking painkillers just to get out of bed in the morning.
One thing my father preached from day one was to avoid drugs. He was adamant about drugs, and for a long time his guidance kept me away from all the illegal ones. On the other hand, painkillers, at least in my mind, were different. I didn’t smoke weed. I hated marijuana and I hadn’t indulged in cocaine yet. I drank alcohol, but other than some pain pills, that’s all I put into my body.
We arrived at the studio and went into a room for a meeting to go over things. Then I went into a dressing room to paint my face and get into my suit. They had some extras screaming our names and an old Cadillac painted gold. I got the old spray-painted Caddy while Roddy got a brandnew white Bronco à la O. J. Simpson.
The Backlot Brawl: That one hurt.
After practicing in the cars for a few minutes, we went back into the offices for one last meeting. This was a one-take deal because we were basically going to beat the crap out of one another and demolish pretty much everything in sight, including the cars. The plan was to go right from the cars into a fight. Roddy and I had a pretty good idea of what we wanted to do with all the props. There was a big table with all the catering, a Dumpster, a fire hose, baseball bat, and the cars. There were plenty of things for us to use on our way to the ending. Everything leading up to me driving off with Roddy falling off the hood of the car was pretty much up to us.
The meeting ended and we headed down the lot. I got into my car. The cameras were ready. I was revving the engine just around the corner of the building. The adrenaline was pumping and I was in the zone. It was such a rush because we knew it was a one-shot deal and it was going to be rough. Still, I had no idea what was about to happen. Then, boom, off we went. I took off, cutting the corner squealing the tires, and there was Roddy in between the two soundstages on the back lot with the baseball bat. He was slapping the bat into his hand. I was driving straight toward him and I slammed on the brakes. He threw down the bat and picked up the water cannon. Roddy sprayed the car, then grabbed the bat and smashed the windshield. Then he walked over to my side of the car. The plan was for Roddy to bust out the driver’s-side window, so I was ready. I crawled out the other side of the car, and Roddy started beating the crap out of me. He threw me through the table where all the catering and plants were.
All I wanted to do was run into the big steel Dumpster, but Vince didn’t want me to display any offense other than one nut shot. Otherwise, Roddy was beating me the whole time. We moved around the car and he clocked me in the head with the bat a couple times, then he threw me into the Dumpster.
Roddy started dragging me along, and that was my shot. Wham! I was probably twenty feet in front of the car. I jumped in the car and took off. At that point, Roddy was lying right in the path of the car. He saw me and I could see that he was kind of holding his hand. I could tell his hand was really messed up. The Bronco door was open and I was supposed to clip his car and take the door off. That didn’t work out so well. I hit the Bronco but he was still in the way. I was driving pretty slowly because I realized we had one take and I could kill him if I wasn’t careful. I was getting closer and closer, and I saw that he wasn’t moving. All of a sudden his eyes got bigger and bigger, an
d we were looking right at one other. It was like everything was happening in slow motion. Then his knees hit the front of my car and he flew right up on top of the car. I was thinking, “I can’t stop because we can’t shoot this thing again.” So I tried to ease my way out of the shot while making sure Roddy was okay.
He looked all right, relatively speaking, of course. I don’t know why he didn’t get out of the way. I guess Roddy wanted that extra shot of reality. I had only about twenty more feet to go, and I knew he had to roll off the car at some point. As I turned, I ran into that big Dumpster. Roddy finally rolled and I drove away.
One of the real big shots at Universal had his Rolls-Royce parked about fifty yards away, and the Dumpster was rolling straight toward it. The cameraman kept shooting, but at the same time he was running to catch the Dumpster before it crashed into this $300,000 car. Meanwhile, I drove around the corner near the other soundstage and stopped the car. I remember sitting thinking, “What just happened? Holy shit.” My suit was ripped, there was blood all over me from Roddy’s hand. It was an incredible rush.
We had to duplicate all this two and a half weeks later for WrestleMania, so I couldn’t wash anything. The whole sequence took about ten minutes, I guess. I could barely walk when I finally got out of the car. I was dizzy as hell, but I wanted to watch it play back on the monitor. All these extras were watching, and I just stood there not saying a word. I walked upstairs and Vince gave us both hugs.
“That was incredible.” And it was, but my head was messed up and so was Roddy’s hand. We got back into the limousine and Vince took us to the hospital.
Vince is just one of the boys, and he was on cloud nine as we drove to the hospital. I was on cloud nine, too, but for different reasons. We finally got to the hospital and Roddy went in to get his hand fixed.
Cross Rhodes: Goldust, Out of the Darkness (WWE) Page 5