Any of us would be severely inconvenienced--at the very least--after expelling a shotgun into a buddy's face. Not so our vice president, who was compelled to speak with police only after enjoying nearly a full day to dry out (I mean his soggy hunting gear, what did you think I meant?), and who subsequently received an apology from the guy he blasted and an image rehabilitation from the reptilian Brent Hume. The Brave New Workshop reasonably posits these events as conclusive proof of the impending end of the world. Joe Bozic, Mike Fotis, and Caleb McEwen offer up a combination of sketches and improv to make their case. Parodies of 24 and Sports Center fall flat, but the show eventually succeeds more often than not. As usual, the musical numbers are among the high points. In one, the three become a jug band called the Revelation Rascals. And after the intermission, they break out a schmaltzy ballad, "We'll Miss You Kirby," which hoists the deceased teddy-bear ballplayer on the petard of his own police reports. A spoof on this year's (yet unreleased!) film Snakes on a Plane helpfully points out that our culture is well and truly running on fumes; and the prospect of steroid abuse at the national spelling bee sees McEwen's head finally explode (we knew it was just a matter of time). Finally, a thin gag about the internet morphs into something downright arty, as the homicidal Bozic wields a power saw with dull-eyed malice. While nothing here rises from good to great, the trio is to be commended for bringing up the specter of Prussian terrorists, hell-bent on blowing us all up in order to recapture long-lost glories. We were starting to worry that we'd run out of new enemies.