LANSING, Mich. – It doesn’t take a private eye to find the clues at Robin’s Theatre that your evening might be out of the ordinary.

The title of the show Ixion is putting on is the first clue—Askew, Askance, a Squirrel. But many more quickly follow, including a talking dog, singing appliances and more cultural references both pop and classical than you can shake a stick at.

The play is a collection of two one acts—“Nebraska Rapture” and “SAL-9000”—and they are both getting their world premiere in Lansing. These two plays by Wisconsin writer Lisa Konoplisky are quirky, intelligent and full of wit. With good reason, the audience rarely stopped laughing and then only to appreciate the poignant moments that Konoplisky wove in.

“Nebraska Rapture,” directed by Jeff Croff, features Sadonna Croff as Billie Lou Riddle, a Southerner slightly out of place in her new Nebraska home. She’s looking for someone to pet sit her dog, Toby, and believes Emily Marks, played by Monica Tanner, is perfect not only because she can perform doggy CPR, but because she is Jewish. When we meet the dog, played by Nick Lemmer, he’s part man, talks and listens to books on tape. Rounding out the cast is Danica O’Neill as Grace, Billie’s rebellious, constantly sarcastic, Goth daughter.

Sadonna Croff delights as the devout Christian who is sure in her faith and the way it makes the world go round. She is sweet and likable, and while we often laugh at her foibles and her speech, we’re never mocking her. Her daughter may frequently consider her a “tool,” but Konoplisky and Croff make sure that Billie Lou is sympathetic. And it does leave you pondering the question of what you might do in her shoes if you had her faith and beliefs.

Tanner was the perfect foil, quiet and contained in contrast to Croff’s loquaciousness. She seems timid and overwhelmed by Billie’s personality. It is only when Toby makes an appearance that Tanner slowly reveals her character and personality. One of the funniest moments in the sketch comes when she and Toby sing a pop song, much to the disgust of Grace, who complains that “old people” shouldn’t sing.

Lemmer makes a great human dog. He’s got all the quirks and characteristics of a canine and is constantly tickling the audience with his comic physicality. He inhabits the iconic role of a wise fool, and Lemmer plays up both his wisdom and his wit.

Jeff Croff directs and it is clear he has a strong connection with the script. He keeps the pacing tight and lets Konoplisky’s humor shine through without ever pausing for the audience to catch up. It’s quick-fire wit and it invite the audience to return more than once to fully appreciate the layers of this clever, intelligent script. Cultural references rain down like an April storm, but they don’t leave the audience behind.

While it isn’t a pre-requisite, “SAL-9000” is a lot funnier if you’ve seen or read “2001: A Space Odyssey.” In fact, the final scene might seem poignant if you’re unfamiliar with the Arthur C. Clarke/Stanley Kubrick science fiction masterpiece. If you are, the similarities between the two will have you laughing at this feminine pastiche.

In this sketch, Jill, played by Katy Kettles, has just received a new washing machine, a washing machine that is the pinnacle in new technology as her two delivery techs are quick to tell her. It’s only after they are gone that SAL-9000, played by Tracey Dolinar, speaks to Jill and lets her know that he is sentient, capable of feeling, incapable of error and quite the crooner. They develop a relationship that goes through all the ups and downs of romance with SAL-9000 being both lover and analyst.

Kettles has many of the demands of a one-woman show. Her scene partner, Dolinar, is a disembodied voice coming from the vague direction of the audience. It’s a staging that requires her to be intimate with the audience, a device that works well in drawing in all those watching. Kettles starts out harsh and distant and slowly reveals her vulnerabilities and fears.

Dolinar captures the humanity of a washing machine, no easy task. He’s aided by Konoplisky’s clever script and he mines it for all it is worth. Even at his most “human,” there is the ever-present electronic voice, the reminder that he is, for all his miracles and wonders, still a machine. He especially captures this duality when he is singing old standards to Jill. His only stage presence is a round, red light, another tribute to the Clarke/Kubrick story.

This sketch is directed by Nicole Clyne and she cleverly works the staging to keep Jill in the center and SAL somewhere out in the audience. There is some air left in the beginning and Jill is so aloof that it subtracts some from the sales pitches of the movers.

Overall, Konoplisky’s script is a pure delight of word play, cleverness and quirkiness. Even while presenting the fantastical, she does so in such a way that brings a sincere, deep humanity to each character—even those who aren’t technically human. It’s the type of play that leaves you feeling good while feeding you a steady diet of laughter and goodwill.

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