Gina Gionfriddo’s “U.S. Drag” is not a show about U.S. service men who dare to do Ethel Merman in the face of “don’t ask don’t tell.” No, the 2001 play takes its title from William Burroughs’ “Naked Lunch,” and refers to a particular kind of American depression. It’s a dark, nasty comedy with punchy dialogue that skewers the current cultural phenomena of entitlement, victimhood and celebrity-worship so prevalent among today’s youth.

Ion Theatre’s well-cast production, led by director Claudio Raygoza, extracts the humor, as well as the anxiety and confusion of a generation. The play pings from here to there like a manic Vodka Red Bull-fueled dash through the New York club scene, which provides a sense of the disconnectedness of its characters but also can be disorienting and confounding.

NY party girls and recent college grads Allison and Angela feel the world owes them big time. They’ve got looks and brains, and aren’t interested in working their way up the publishing food chain starting as lowly editorial assistants. They want a lot – clothes, clubs, cover charges – while they’re still “pretty enough to enjoy it.”

They figure their lottery ticket to the high life is through the reward money offered for catching an elusive serial killer named Ed. To this end, they join an Ed awareness group called SAFE (Stay Away From Ed). The group’s nutty members include a “symbolically abused” writer who penned a fictional memoir, a victim junkie who gets off on seeking out and consoling survivors, a former victim of Ed’s and an aggressively helpful group leader.

Karson St. John and Laura Bozanich in the lead roles are pure gold together, firing off the humor with deadly aim. Bozanich, who has proven her comedic chops time and again, is delightfully, wickedly detached as Angela. Newcomer to San Diego St. John takes Allison’s shallow, crass materialism and petulant sense of entitlement to new heights (or rather an all-time low). Her hysterical meltdown during a get-to-know-you party game is one of the play’s comedic highlights.

The supporting cast also does good work. Sven Salumaa gives a hilarious portrayal of the self-absorbed “creative biographer” who’s a tangled mess of dysfunction. Colin Simon is creepily earnest as the victims advocate. David Kelso, Nick Louie, Kelly Lapczynski and Melissa Coleman Reed round out the cast in the smaller roles. These largely distasteful characters border on caricature, which might not work if it weren’t so damn funny.

Allison’s desperate attempt to add meaning to her life – she thinks marriage, antiquing and crocheting might do the trick – threatens to break up the duo. But she snaps out of it after Angela is attacked by Ed. Getting stabbed just might be the “something extraordinary” they’ve both been waiting for.

Gionfriddo, a writer for the TV series “Law and Order,” has an ear for sharp, lively dialogue and American cultural anxieties. She deftly handles the theme of media exploitation, along with egoistic motivations to help others, the psychology of victimhood, alienation and the search for human interconnectedness. These are big, weighty topics that Gionfriddo gleefully skims, mining much barbed humor along the way. But it may be too much for one hour and a half, intermissionless show.

Raygoza’s snappy direction keeps the action moving with mini set pieces that roll on and off stage, but the script takes off along too many paths. The result is a bit schizophrenic, ending with parallel academic lectures on feminist theory, urban hysteria and the whole Ed experience that feels off-pitch.

But for a wacky, dark comedy, this San Diego premiere of “U.S. Drag” offers a fresh antidote to mawkish holiday fare. Ion’s smart staging and strong cast give teeth to Gionfriddo's biting satire.