No matter how annoying you find flyerers on the Royal Mile, even the most exasperated Fringe-goer would probably agree that rounding them up to be slaughtered in death camps is quite a drastic solution. But this is what happens in the dystopian future society depicted in this piece, where a puritanical regime is cleansing society of undesirable elements. Here, the Flyerers are the last bastion of resistance, promoting freedom of speech and thought by organising covert comedy gigs. In the distractingly unsuitable setting of a brightly lit, heavily air-conditioned hotel room, a surprisingly layered and poignant piece of theatre unfolds, depicting a bleak and brutal future, in which atheists, single parents, and gay couples are hounded by an evangelical government. While the specifics of the dystopian regime are pretty generic, and the details of how it came about are glossed over unsatisfactorily, the arresting performances of the two actresses bring the story alive and elevate it above the unpromising premise. Their monologues describe in shockingly brutal and genuinely spine-tingling detail the horrors of rape, torture, and execution that they encounter in this totalitarian regime. The production values are poor, with clunky transitions and a space that prevents the audience from fully immersing themselves in the story. But the forceful and emotionally raw performances allow the piece to transcend these issues, and make it a compelling, if flawed, production.