In the first of two back-to-back solo sketch shows from Chemically Imbalanced Comedy, Connor Tillman shuttles through a dozen roles, his waggling tongue and shit-eating grin considerable assets in what amounts to a solitary game of douchebag charades. Impersonations include a ski-lodge sleazeball assailing vacationers with commentary about his favorite sexy animals and a freak in awe of the "atmosphere" at Rainforest Cafe. It doesn't quite hang together, and the recurring sketch—Tillman as a pine tree lamenting life's harsh realities—is too corny to bind or elevate the series. Things cohere better in Dan Bazaldua's Hollywood Moonlight, in which a bright-eyed reporter tells of his attempt to profile a stodgy old actor of forgotten fame. Sadly, though, it drags, and the gonzo flourishes don't suffice to supply the comic punch. —Jena Cutie