The show’s blurb says it’s about “Forgery, castration and blind drunkenness”. If this doesn’t inspire, no matter: it’s so much more.

David Leddy’s genius script is a thoughtful and intelligent commentary on the artistry of swindle (or is it the other way round?), inspired by research into the “essence” we believe is imbued in, say, a “real” Vermeer. Packed in a fast-paced two-hander it is funny, dark, erudite and tongue-in-cheek all at the same time, also weaving in a heart-rending emotional thread which never resorts to over-sentimentality.

Wendy Seager (Liz) and Neil McCormack (Jim) demonstrate a mastery of dialects – it’s rare to hear a “real” Geordie accent – and adeptly slip in and out of the varied characters in the story they tell over 75 minutes, an insightful combination of intrigue and exposé of what is actually “real”.

Attention to detail reflects the theme of counterfeit: the programme is a one-off Pollock-esque print and dust sheets, paint spattered à la Pollock, drape seats and stage to give an air of the rough and ready.

I wasn’t blown away, though. Still, in this world of fakes, spin, positive thinking and people out to get your guts for garters, one has to keep an ear tuned for something not quite “right”. Sure enough, a spaghetti confusion of cables which looks like it might blow up any minute does – then turns out to be only a show.