Alan Carr's Paramount Comedy Festival performance in 2004 was far from a smooth show.

First of all, his planned slideshow went the way of the dodo when a supposedly reliable laptop conked out.

Trooping on like a true pro, Carr was then upstaged by an audience member who required urgent medical assistance in the form of a St John's Ambulance-administered heart massage.

Informing this year's crowd that there would be no technical assistance and any sudden emergencies would be duly ignored, Carr relied on his ebullient personality alone to entertain - oh, and a set of over-sized Top Trumps cards.

Camper than John Inman trying on a pink rucksack in Millets, Carr self-deprecatingly told the story of his life, how he is a constant embarrassment to his football-loving dad, his inability to bond with his bodybuilding mum and his hatred for his more talented and far better-looking cousin - via the medium of the perennially popular statistics-based card game.

He may describe his family as the Nolans of the sporting world (of which he is Linda) but, judging by his natural charm and hilarious anecdotal style, it's the comedian himself who is the true trophy wielding champion.