Passing comment on a performance foiled by technical howlers might seem a cruel and futile exercise. But it’s worth noting the charm with which Clare Harrison – a temporary Essex exile with a fondness for merkins, smutty one-liners and tacky Stetsons – dealt with outrageous misfortune.

Wires, an unresponsive mouse and a laptop accidentally drowned by a previous show’s pint conspired to thwart her pre-shot video footage of various infamous-looking characters, but she wasn’t willing to cry over spilt water.

“I’ve ’ad a right nightmare ’ere,” she explained, donning a flowing peroxide wig and proceeding to regale her handful of sympathetic onlookers with a warbled song about the joys of dogging.

The Caroline Of Brunswick’s upstairs space is a great fringe venue and Harrison’s hosts did their utmost to help in a battle which looked uphill from the moment the screen went blue, depriving us of scenes involving the likes of Baroness Labia and Major Bumhole.

“When I go to Edinburgh, I’m not going to use any technology,” rued the defeated actress, offering heartfelt thanks as she curtailed a performance scheduled to last an hour.

Somehow, even in disaster, she’d shown enough stage presence to leave the house a happy one.