‘Tuna Does Vegas’ brings zany adventures to stage

Nothing that happens in Vegas is destined to stay there, especially when the residents of Tuna, the third-smallest town in Texas, decide to tag along with OKKK disc jockey Arles Struvie and his apple pie-American housewife, Bertha Bumiller, as they renew their vows in a Sin City wedding chapel.

Actor/playwrights Joe Sears and Jaston Williams hit the Strip with their entourage of kooky characters and soon scrape up a few more disreputable souls at the glitzy hotels and gaming tables in “Tuna Does Vegas,” which makes its Washington premiere Oct. 28.

Abetted by the same kind of guffaw-producing satire that illuminates their multiple prize-winning Tuna trilogy, and aided by backstage facilitators of ultraquick changes, they bring their motley, but lovable, cast to life. It includes Christian smut seeker Vera Carp, gun-toting Didi Snavely, little theater director Joe Bob Lipsey, and nubile Tastee Kreme waitresses Inita Goodwin and Helen Bedd.

Once on the ground in Vegas after a harrowing flight, the travelers encounter Shot, a Minnesota Fats-like gambler, mystic Anna Conda, the ubiquitous Elvis impersonator and a bevy of lusty showgirls.

“We’ve spent a lot of time with these characters and wanted to show how they’ve grown and handle things when they’re taken out of their Tuna comfort zone,” says Williams, who impersonates the svelte members of the troupe in contrast with Sears’ portly personas. “I made a lot of research trips to Vegas and noticed that the people on the planes headed there have a different vibe, similar to folks going to New Orleans. In both cases, they can’t wait to go and get loose with the rest of America and the world. The flight back is somber; they can’t wait to get home.

“To make the story authentic, [writing partner] Ed Howard and I hit all the wedding chapels and were astounded to be treated with such respect. We thought when a couple arrived, somebody would crush out a cigarette and say ‘Come on in’ in a gruff voice, but they were serious and professional and even suggested various popular wedding motifs, like the ‘Blue Hawaii’ period.”

During their survey of Vegas, Williams was amused by things he saw that he could not have made up. One was a huge church whose great front doors, when opened to dismiss the congregation, looked out upon a Hooters restaurant directly across the street. At the Luxor Hotel, a professional bridesmaid bearing tattoos was sitting on a bench, her bouquet at her feet as she dragged on a cigarette. His vivid impressions of the singular environment wend their way throughout the script.

Even though his son likes Vera Carp the least of all his characters, Williams finds her a perfect foil for satirizing the Moral Majority. The jaunt to Las Vegas is an opportunity to see how she and the assorted townsfolk do in those circumstances. Didi takes the occasion to attend a gun show, while Joe Bob has a reading by psychic Anna Conda, who has traveled to every state except Utah because she is afraid of catching polygamy. Charlene Bumiller, Bertha’s daughter and an aspiring actress who happens to be with child, cavorts in the show’s most spectacular costume.

“This is fun stuff,” Williams says. “The second act is absolute madness, but the end winds down to Bertha and Arles reminiscing. They have taken on the world, and their relationship is the heart of the play. Like all couples, they love each other and they fight, but they survive. It’s our take on the American family.”