When Chappelle's Show first hit Comedy Central in 2003, it was an instant hit, but it wasn't until the show's second season that it truly became a cultural phenomenon. All of a sudden, the streets of suburbia from Albuquerque, New Mexico, to Bangor, Maine, resounded with the show's signature catch phrases "Whhhhaaaat!?!" and "I'm Rick James' bitch!" A good deal of the success came from the hilarious skits "Charlie Murphy's True Hollywood Stories." Written and narrated by Murphy, the sketches recount his allegedly true misadventures as part of brother Eddie's entourage -- most notably his encounters with Rick James and Prince. Almost instantly, this lifelong extra's popularity exceeded his brother's -- hard to believe, considering Eddie's recent blockbusters like Daddy Daycare and Haunted Mansion. With the third season of Chappelle's Show on hold indefinitely, Murphy has hit the standup stage. It's the perfect fix for fans craving Murphy more than Rick James craved another bump (cocaine is a hell of a drug). Catch him this weekend at the Palm Beach Improv (550 S. Rosemary Ave., Ste. 250, West Palm Beach) with six shows from Friday, May 20, through Sunday, May 22. Tickets cost $21.30 to $23.43. Call 561-833-1812, or visit www.palmbeachimprov.com. -- Paul A. Leone
Go to Hell
But first, a steambath
How funny would it be if God were a smart-ass Puerto Rican towel boy running a steambath in purgatory? I guess it would depend on your fate -- and the company, of course. In the hands of comic genius and Oscar-nominated playwright/novelist Bruce Jay Friedman (also known for his screenplays Splash and Stir Crazy), the answer is "hilarious," as his mid-'70s play Steambath corrals a motley crew of recently deceased ne'er-do-wells into the steambath of their lives (and deaths). Warning: Towels have been known to slip, so expect nudity and who knows what else. The night of uproarious judgment begins on Friday, May 20, at 8 p.m. at the Tamarac Theatre of Performing Arts (7143 Pine Island Rd., Tamarac). For mature audiences only, tickets are $18. The play runs through June 12. Call the theater box office at 954-726-7898. -- John Shannon
What's wrong with rollerblades?
Melora Creager often introduces her songs with some sort of twisted story. Like this: "Calvin Klein, with his completely transfused blood, stands atop the needle of the Empire State building, naked save his own underwear, shivering and crying like a little baby. Nothing, not even rollerblades, can help him now..." A weird and ribald sense of humor for a pixyish girl who plays the cello, wouldn't you say? Saturday, the ladies (and one gent) of Rasputina, with their vintage clothes, their goth look, their rock sound, and their whimsical speech patterns (imagine a cross between Vampire LeStat and Pootie Tang), headline the weekend-long, 22-artist-strong Calliopefest at Fort Lauderdale Stadium (1301 NW 55th St., Fort Lauderdale). A weekend pass costs $40. Call 954-854-7954, or visit www.calliopefest.com. -- Deirdra Funcheon
There's something a little too normal about comic Gary Gulman. Granted, he comes up with some clever observations (e.g., the absurdity of those stupid police trailers for speeders). But it's just not knee-slapping material. At least he's not Larry the Cable Guy. Gulman drops by Thursday through Sunday at the Improv Paradise Live (5700 Seminole Way, Hollywood). Tickets cost $15.90 to $18.02. Call 954-981-5653. -- Jason Budjinski