Yeah, the name's entry-level funny, the kind of thing junior high kids might name a band, and the 30-plays-in-60-minutes bit whiffs of gimmickry. What's key is that the Monkeys are disciplined but daring writers and performers crafting sharp, staccato bits that, at their best, will have you doubled over and, at worst, will be forgotten once the next great one hits. Bonus points for fearlessness: The absurd stuff can flirt with the avant-garde, and genuine anger steams many of the best bits -- especially those by Pete Calderone and Pearl MacDonald, whose caustic truth-telling is leavened by an appealing warmth. Nick Rigoli, long a standout in improv shows, emerges here as a one-man army of comedy writing. His every idea seems to stir laughs. Make your reservation for next month; this thing sells out, and rightfully so.