In a book-lined shed in the back yard of a London flat, I'm being treated to a sneak preview of what may turn out to be one of this year's hottest Fringe comedy shows by its creator, a young man in a low-cut T-shirt, sweat pants and flip flops.
A beanie hides what I know to be a prodigious Jedwardian quiff and beneath it is a puckish face that has just been sprayed the colour of strong tea by a beauty professional.
"'Hello ladies and gentlemen," he says, reading the opening lines from a script he plucks from the desk in front of me. "My name's Russell Kane. I'm 30, I've got no girlfriend, I'm childless, my best friend is a pug called Colin and I'm probably going to die alone looking at pictures of myself on Google. Good evening!'"
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