A bubbling, slightly twisted blend of The Mighty Boosh, House of Pain and James Joyce. Call it stream-of-consciousness, messy, uninhibited, art-house disco funk comedy. A two-woman character sketch comedy bonanza featuring a green-eyed wolf who bemoans the death of dial-up internet, touchy-feely Glasto-goers, as well as enjoyable nods to both The Matrix’s red pill and the Police’s red light. This lightning-paced, rhapsodic storytelling, told in uncanny synchronicity, brings to life a plethora of irresistibly well-observed character vignettes unlike anything else on the scene.
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