Coming up with a new Las Vegas slogan is just one of the challenges of modern life in the new Second City show. From left, Andy St. Clair, Paul Mattingly, Amanda Blake Davis, Katie Neff and Craig Uhlir. Photo by Ralph Fountain.

The new Second City production stands in breathless (and funny) denial of the conventional theory on Las Vegas show-going.

Most of the Broadway musicals coming to town have trimmed the running time, figuring casino audiences are too antsy to wait out an intermission or sit through superfluous subplots.

But the Chicago comedy troupe packs so much into its new 75-minute revue at the Flamingo that ticket-buyers actually have to pay more attention than they do at those musicals. And while the musicals try to dumb themselves down, this one is subversively sneaking bright ideas into the R-rated raunch.

The ensemble opens up with a choreographed "ballet" on wheeled office chairs. Before it's over, you realize the entire affair has been equally orchestrated. Skits are woven into a structure, in which God (Paul Mattingly) is an indecisive office supervisor being pitched the whole concept of humankind by his middle-management staff.

A reference in one sketch ignites a new one: When one member of an arguing couple says, "I feel like I'm alone on a desert island," the scene changes to a guy alone on a desert island. (And oh, what happens there becomes the evening's sick highlight you'll be talking about later).

The skits flow into one another, and tie back to previous ones. In a final tour de force, God ponders a change that turns back time to showcase alternate endings for several of the previous sketches.

Whew.

Not your average comedy show, and one that proves 10-fold why each of the five performers carries an Actors Equity Union card. They wrote the whole show, and they're creating dozens of well-drawn characters here.

But is it funny? Mostly.

The price of ambition is essentially having to write more jokes. You see, Second City used to pad its show at the Flamingo with at least one improvisational "game." A favorite would be to send two cast members out of the room, then make them figure out five words supplied by the audience during a sketch.

Now, figure that took up 10 minutes. Think about writing three or four skits to fill that same 10 minutes, and you'll see the challenge.

On one hand, you miss the breathing space. There are bound to be some clunkers, or at least sketches that go on much longer than they should. The filthy granny on "Family Feud" (Katie Neff), the weird guy (Craig Uhlir) antagonizing a couple in a movie theater, the cautionary songs to Girl Scouts about Internet predators -- all good ideas that go on too long or lead to dead ends, ultimately falling into the "nice try" category.

With any luck though, the weaker stuff will blow past and be left in the wake of the memorable moments. The guy (Uhlir) who gets pulled over for a really unusual sobriety test while driving his drunk girlfriend (Amanda Blake Davis) home; a geopolitical plant shop where the "Iranian geranium" will "take your garden hostage"; the almost touching tale of two nerds (Davis and Uhlir) on a blind date.

But there's more than one kind of nerd, and more than one nerd skit in this show. When Mattingly doesn't want to be bothered by his gal on "new comic book day" and rekindles an argument about "the broadsword thing" -- "I just feel safer with a broadsword in the apartment" -- you know you're touching down on current American society at a complex level.

Likewise when you meet the couple (Neff and Andy St. Clair) trying to convince each other it will be OK to have a baby: "You'll have a constant designated driver."

It all comes at you so fast, you might not have time to realize this comedy show has more to say about life today than any other show on the Strip.

Pay attention.

Note: This show isn't done on Tuesdays, when both performances are "Scriptless" improv shows performed by understudies from the Second City Training Center.