David Tennant and Robert Peston walk into a bar. They get chatting. They have a few drinks. They get along. Stuff happens. Some months later, Colin Hoult is born. An alluring explanation, perhaps, but even such illustrious parentage couldnt explain the sheer invention of this terrific show. Building on last years Carnival of Monsters, Hoults character comedy comprises a series of villainous vignettes with musical interludes from the supporting cast. Compared by some to the League of Gentleman, Hoult has an eye for the unusual, and many of his sketches are uproariously ingenious. Others are closer to home: the bullied schoolboy turned lonely shelf-stacker, or the ladies man not allowed to touch, have a darkly macabre undertone. The high point of the hour is Hoults portrayal of the squaddie screenwriter, an action film fanatic resolute in his ambition to write how real people speak. Part PT-instructor, part bore-down-the-pub-who-might-glass-you-at-any-moment, it is in this character that Hoults ease with the audience really shines, keeping a hubbub of laughter bubbling along nervously between the deserved pay-offs of the punchlines. Hoult is a gifted and exceptionally likeable performer, who engages every one of his audience in the world he so skilfully creates. Darkness gives way to silliness as Hoult glides from character to character with effortless verve: few performers could segue with such panache from a dead care home assistant to having their audience including your reviewer on all fours chanting pigs in blankets. Spotted in the audience: Tim Key, last years Edinburgh Comedy Award Winner, with Jonny Sweet, 2009s best newcomer. Quite some pedigree in the front row, matched by some virtuosic brilliance on stage.