First we had Sexy Ghost Boy, then Sexy Golf Boy and now we have Sexy Gold Boy. Prospective audience members are in the bar at Whisky & Wood awaiting the appearance of George Fenn, tonight’s performer. We’re an eclectic bunch and I’m wondering if that’s because we’re familiar with Fenn’s work – or unfamiliar, in which case we’re in for an even more unexpected ride.

The performance area is a large space and spread on the floor is a line-up of garments – ostentatiously male. And there’s a wheelbarrow, suspiciously covered. One of us finds a list of intriguing instructions on his chair and reads them out. Unintelligible as they seem, three of us volunteer to obey.

Fenn, after a surprise appearance, quickly sets us up. He has described his show as interactive historical comedy slut drama. “Interactive” is an understatement and “historical” should be replaced by “hysterical”. As for “slut”, sufficient to say that I am relieved about the figleaf.

It’s difficult to know whether I am more entertained by Fenn’s antics or the antics he so easily persuades us to take part in. The woman next to me is especially eager and she gets rewarded with more parts to play. There are outfits and props aplenty and we get to use them appropriately – or inappropriately. Cues are supplied and acted on with alacrity. I am spared until the moment I get to lead everybody in a sheep shearing scenario that has us bleating with laughter. And there’s a fishing episode to bait us further.

Fenn’s finale is fittingly physical and involves interaction of a very special kind. Back in his wheelbarrow he surveys us with satisfaction. A last round of his willing collaborators is accompanied by individual dabs of the eponymous gold – damn, I forgot to clean it off my nose – a token from a memorably unique and entertaining performance.  

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