Here’s a look at two shows in this year’s IndyFringe:

America’s Next Top Bottom

A satirical take on the Tyra Banks reality show “America’s Next Top Model,” “America’s Next Top Bottom” opens with a pair of drag queens named Tiara Skanks and Jasmin Dicklessone, variously explaining and arguing about the format of the show.

What emerges at the end of their riotous introduction — and what follows throughout — is a competition between six aspiring “bottoms” to prove their status and win over the audience.

“Who wins?” Skanks asks. "You decide. For viewers in Florida results may vary. "

The humor is a little raw, as one might expect considering the author is Ron Spencer — artistic director of Theatre on the Square, as well as the writer/director/performer of the similarly ribald Fringe production “Mr. Charles, Currently of Palm Beach.” But it doesn’t stray too far from tasteful.

A sample introduction for one of the contestants: “David hails from South Bend, likes Bible study, macaroni and cheese and crystal meth.” (And that was the only example fit for print.)

The show skips along at a neat pace, jumping from the first task in which contestants need to pick out their own butt in a lineup, to the spelling contest.

The contestants themselves are also an interesting bunch, from Doug, continually mocked for being a child, to Dannon, mocked for the opposite. They move on to other challenges such as attempting to personify famous butts in history, or reciting personal ads, which, in Spencer’s hands, become laden with wonderfully filthy wordplay both subtle and blunt — some funny, some not.

The coordination and choreography (if you can call it that) need some work in the final stages, when the comedy becomes more physical.

Next performance: 9 p.m. today.

The Hefner Monologues

John Hefner introduces himself early on in his one-man show — not for who he is in relation to the most famous Hefner of all, but for who he is as an individual.

He is a charming character. His stories suggest a man who is meek, a little weak, who is so accustomed to failed conquests that you can’t help but root for him to have one tiny victory.

By his own admission, Hefner is the guy who didn’t know he had snot on his face while he slow-danced with a would-be high school girlfriend. He’s the kid who hated teenagers when he was a teenager. As the tagline of his Fringe performance suggests: John Hefner is truly “the black sheep of the white bunny family.”

It feels as if the moral of his story is going to be that nice guys never win, but Hefner’s path shows you that losers don’t necessarily lose, either.

As he gains confidence in himself, he pokes fun at the family name, at the questions it inspires. He regales with the tale of his one visit to the mansion, as a lad, and how he was more excited by the screening room than the grotto, more entranced by a bowl of MMs than a bevy of beauties.

He’s a boy in a man’s playland, preferring the sweets to the sweetie pies.

There are plenty of grim moments, too, from recollections of an alcoholic father to misadventures in college. But from these lows Hefner finds his heart. His triumphs may be half-lived, but he rolls with it when he falls short and fails.

Yeah, he’s a self-loathing wowser, a self-conscious dork, a boy that’s all inhibitions and no exhibition, a kid who won’t make a mark in any yearbooks, a guy who describes himself as “anti-style” and “awkward chic.” But the beauty of John Hefner is that we’re more like him than we’ll ever be like Hugh.

Next performance: 9 p.m. Thursday.