It opens in Spokane Sept. 2 at the NorthTown

A guy walks into a talent agent’s office. Says, “I’ve got an act.”

Talent agent says, “I’ve got too many acts as it is, and I’m late for a meeting. So, thanks but no thanks.”

“Hold on,” the guys says, “you’ll really like this one.”

The agent sighs. Checks his watch again. “OK, what kind of an act is it?” he asks.

“A family act,” the guy says.

“I don’t do family acts,” the agent replies.

“Oh, I think you’ll like this one,” the guy says.

The agent looks at his watch for a third time. “You’ve got one minute,” he says.

“Well,” the guy says, “first I come out, and I’m riding a unicycle. Then my wife comes out, juggling three flaming batons. And then, just at her big moment, I come up behind her and …”

From that point on the guy describes the most gross, vile and unspeakable sex acts involving his wife, his son and daughter, a couple of cousins and one aged grandparent. The family dog is brought in at one point. He adds references to feces, breakfasts and lunches and dinners regurgitated onstage, plus more than a few mentions of various other bodily fluids. It all climaxes with everyone marching around the stage carrying American flags, wearing “Support Our Troops” top hats and singing “The Star-Spangled Banner.”

When the guy stops, the agent just sits there. Dumbfounded. Finally, he manages to say, “That, I have to admit, is a hell of an act. What do you call it?”

The guy smiles, adopts a kind of tah-dah stance and says, “The Aristocrats.”