Sam Garlepp is a fresh talent and has a knack for impersonating polygamous fluid. On stage, he’s figured out the right ingredients. He’s nervous, but not shy. He’s self-deprecating, but not ashamed. He knows he uses awful segues, but he keeps using them anyway. The audience laps it up. In fact, I’ve never seen an audience enjoy a comedian as much as Garlepp and I’ve never seen an audience so full of fan girls either.

Topical, quick-witted, energetic, and not afraid to say the word ‘vagina’ and ‘cockroach’ in the same sentence, Garlepp showcases his clever wordplays and funny encounters, evidently enjoying every second of it.

A few of his jokes fizzled out with a giggle, but nothing seemed to faze him. He carried on speaking a thousand words a minute, jumping between stories, dropping puns and dancing to Taylor Swift.

Despite the seemingly random topic hopping, one theme did underpin the show however – his lack of a girlfriend. So fan girls, if you’re looking for someone who can jest and ingest, steal his grandmother’s car and smoke salmon behind the woodwork shed, then boy do we have the guy for you.

He held the audience’s interest every second of the way with his enthusiasm and aptitude for asking the burning questions (such as: what flavour is barbecue?). Everyone walked out with a smile on their face.