Don’t answer the red phone — unless you want to get an earful from an irate, Osama bin Laden-style fanatic, called up to chew out his cell of hapless terrorists in Buffalo, N.Y. Give or take a random incident involving a sneaker salesman at an Orange Julius and a bungled attempt to blow up Niagra Falls, Buffalo isn’t exactly a hotbed of anti-American activity.

That’s the fundamentally silly premise that positions playwright David Holstein to hit the bull’s eye of tastelessness with “The B-Team,” the Dad’s Garage world premiere that should cause outgoing artistic mastermind Kate Warner to be hung in an effigy of comedic shame. As she heads off on a mission to run Boston’s New Repertory Theatre, Warner torches the place with a Molotov cocktail of raunchy situations, filthy language and unforgiveable stereotypes.

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Dad's Garage

The B- Team

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And that’s a compliment.

In the play, the Buffalo terrorist ring founded on a credo of anti-Semitism and homophobia is led by the rattled, all-thumbs Mohamed (Tony Larkin). It’s become such a haven of dysfunction that even takes in a mother-loathing Jewish kid named Brian (Jimi Kocina).

Meanwhile, back in Pakistan, the grizzly Abu Abdallah (Randy Havens) dispatches the strong, silent, saber-waving Sadiq (Stephen Platinum) to instill some discipline in the group, which also includes street-smart Abdul (Louis Gregory) and hapless Ammad (Rueben Medina).

The play gets off to a rollicking start — and Havens, Gregory and Kocina give terrific performances. But as the terrorists begin to self-cannibalize, Holstein, a writer for the hit Showtime series “Weeds,” can’t quite sustain the momentum. Still, he has a jolly good time planting digs at Ted Danson (“He is the twisted aborted fetus of the Western world”); lampooning the global fascination with consumer goods and technology (the guys pop open cans of Mecca-Cola and text their girlfriends back home); and scouring the cowardly, hypocritical underside of hate-mongering.

“The B-Team” isn’t the most technically polished production you’ll ever see. But with its shadow puppets, body parts in cookie tins and buoyant song-and-dance finale, it celebrates a warped, politically incorrect sensibility that feels just right for Dad’s.

THEATER REVIEW

8 p.m. Thursdays-Saturdays and March 23. Through April 4. $12-$24. Dad’s Garage, 280 Elizabeth St. 404-523-3141, dadsgarage.com