Pssst, wanna know why Jeff Bezos is responsible for COVID? Or what makes Jemma Collins and Vladimir Putin unique in all the world?
And do you want conspiracy theories that link Ikea, the Nazis and Kanye West explained to you by a louche, Terry-Thomas-esque 1930s throwback clad in a washed silk purple smoking jacket, cravat and brandishing a – never explained – lurid yellow ostrich feather? Well, Troy Hawke’s your man.
Character comedy only works if the audience buys into – and hopefully loves – the persona and I have to say, I’d give my right arm to have a snifter or two with handsome chap whose comedy and quips are as arch as his eyebrows, and his observations as sharp as his cheekbones.
Think the devilishly good-looking lead from Netflix’s Lucifer – with the devastating addition of a pencil moustache – and you’re on the money.
The show is brilliantly constructed around one poor man’s online rant about a failed pizza delivery, and segues seamlessly into an examination of what Troy sees as the con of psychotherapy.
During the hour he demonstrates deft audience interaction – winning one fellow around by describing his folded arms “not as a barrier but as an envelope I intend to steam open” – and great use of visuals.
The sight of someone straight out of Jeeves and Wooster welcoming shoppers into a DIY superstore had me sliding out of my seat, and Troy’s demolition of “Poundland’s false Marxist utopia” just about finished me off.
And if you’re puzzled by the urbane Troy mentioning Liverpool legend Jan Molby and occasionally lapsing into broad Scouse, there’s a wicked rumour that he’s the creation of Wirral-born comic Milo McCabe – but that could be just another of Troy’s off-the-wall theories.
You’ll be lucky to catch this run as it’s totally sold-out, as he was in the last Fringe in 2019, but do grab any chance to see some of the best character comedy out there. Troy might not ever be allowed back in B&Q but he’ll be welcome wherever else he goes.
Troy Hawke: Sigmund Troy’d, Underbelly, 19.00