Who would have guessed that a two-man satire about the religious right would be cracking up audiences 26 years after its inception?

The "Greater Tuna" juggernaut is still rolling, having generated two sequels, a TV adaptation and several productions here in Richmond. The play by Jaston Williams, Joe Sears and Ed Howard is a favorite of theaters because it takes just two actors and needs only a couple of card tables for a set. But it's a favorite of actors, too, because they relish the challenge of ten roles apiece in a quick-change extravaganza.

Tuna, Texas, is the third-smallest town in the state, and it has a variety of nutty residents whose concerns are amusingly different from those of the sophisticated urbanite (or so we'd like to think).

The framework for the show is the radio programming at station OKKK (and that name is not an accident), opened by the morning news program of Thurston Wheelis and Arles Struvie, which includes funny weather, funny commercials and a notice about the upcoming Klan meeting.

There's an invitation for black people and Mexican-Americans to come and audition for an upcoming production of "My Fair Lady" -- "You just might get a part in the chorus," they're told. And there are multiple "pet of the week" segments from Petey Fisk, head of Tuna's Humane Society, who has a little speech impediment on his p's.

Then we move on to the Bumiller household, where mama Bertha is coping with her depressed 18-year-old daughter, Charlene; her reform-school son, Stanley; and her younger boy, Little Jody, who's always followed by a pack of dogs. A plot develops involving Bertha's elderly Aunt Pearl Burras and the death of a local judge, with detours to meet Vera Carp and her Smut Snatchers of the New Order, who want to wipe offending words like ball and nut from the dictionary in the high school library.

The roles are split between the tireless actors Joe Inscoe and David Clark, who are much more energetic than their slightly tired material. Both are hilarious as they whip in and out of costumes and characters. Inscoe is especially funny as the mint-green pantsuited Bertha, as the spiteful Aunt Pearl, and as OKKK station manager Leonard Childers, in tinted aviator glasses and the longest white shoes ever seen. (Marcia Miller Hailey designed the costumes, and a team of three dressers makes the quick changes happen.) Clark's best characters are Didi Snavely, who owns a used-weapons shop; poor Petey Fisk; truculent Charlene; and the bombastic but easily bored Vera. Their thick Texas accents are great, too.

Director Joe Pabst, with his penchant for broad comedy, gets everything right here, from physical bits to timing to a well-produced and perfectly timed sound design that weaves the sketches together. If you'd like "A Prairie Home Companion" with cross-dressing and without zydeco, you'll like "Greater Tuna."