Some artists meet you halfway, with a trail of reassuring breadcrumbs luring you to darker forests. Sketch duo The Mayor And His Daughter, on the other hand, are more likely to ward you off with empty crisp packets and beer cans. If you ever make it to their metaphorical comedy clearing, curiosity getting the better of you, rest assured it’ll be absolutely on their terms.

And you might not get out alive.

We arrive at the show to the sound of an old May Day folk tune, as befits the season and The Mayor and His Daughter’s idiom. They are from a village of some nostalgic never-was, and it’s under threat from outside forces. 

But before we delve deep into their cinematic universe, let’s pause to appreciate what a brilliantly balanced double act they are. The daughter: of indeterminate age but nevertheless in need of wine, a chaos spirit from pre-Christian times. And the Mayor: a mysterious, out of touch, barely in control authority figure, whose shamanic magic of duty, tradition and ritual are losing their once-assured powers.

The relationship and power dynamic between these two characters is set out, hilariously succinctly, from the very first sketch, which like many here doesn’t really adhere to the usual “audience and stage” dichotomy. This earns the duo a relaxed daytime audience who are willing to follow them to stranger corners of the village, where sinister spirits lurk amid the rubbish usually kept hidden behind the 1970s net curtains of the mind.

There are some brilliant gags here, some very funny misdirections, with the show a very sensible balance between the profound and the very stupid. There is also excellent use of an Overhead Projector, which just adds to the general sense that The Mayor (Ciaran Chillingworth) and His Daughter (Kit Finnie) are sketch comedians beamed in from another era.

Though oblique, haphazard, and faux-shambolic, these two are making serious points. Authority figures are no longer what they seem, and sometimes this duo seem like post-apocalyptic trash archaeologists, scouring the the former dogging sites surrounding the village for ancient treasure, like a copy of Russell Howard’s Good News (Series Two) on DVD, from which they might – just might – glean some kind of meaning.

On occasion, this feels almost like a travelling sideshow act, with our hosts by turns gamely and stubbornly going through the basic motions of traditional entertainment while all else falls apart. 

A Genuine Appreciation of Comedy is directed by Joz Norris and produced by Grubby Little Mitts’ Rosie Nicholls, so there are many excellent weirdo comedy minds behind this strange and oddly moving hour.