A form of improv where all your scenes must take place in only one location — specifically, the excruciatingly misguided White House Situation Room of the 2000s Bush era. And it all has to be in mime.

A form of musical improv, but woven in you must somehow communicate to the audience what your father’s penis looks like, based on a collection of accidental childhood sightings.

A form of improv where all the players are in college. It’s college improv, everyone’s bad and it’s bad.

A form of improv where one player has to narrate the piece on the fly as it’s unfolding, while the whole audience is quickly wolfing down a salad because they are very late for something.

A form of improv that starts with a guest monologist, BUT no matter what the monologue is about, the successive piece will reenact famous kidnappings, a la Patty Hearst.

A form of improv that starts out a Harold, but ends up a lesson on China’s lax environmental policies, but everyone’s wearing mustaches and we’ll need an audience volunteer!

A form of improv where you stop. All at once. The lights burn on your face, you turn to your teammate Alex, Alex whose bread and butter is tripping over his words and then having his incompetency met with raucous audience approval. And you walk off stage, right in the middle of someone’s initiation, so now you’ve actually left kind of a shaky foundation for that scene in your wake, but you don’t care. A form of improv where you give it all up, and think about getting a cabinet for family heirlooms. A form of improv where you start proofing your house for water damage early so someday one of the kids will live there or it’ll be in good shape to go back on the market, make a nice little nest egg.

A form of improv where you read the news every morning and pray to God every night.