Chris Stokes

You can picture the club circuit of the alternative comedy boom-years being filled to the rafters with cardy-wearing anti-machismo vegan stand-ups. But in these post post-ironic times, Chris Stokes feels almost like a novelty act. Lucky for him (and us) that he just so happens to be a very gifted young comic whose tales of being hassled for sex by a tramp and making a fool of himself at the recycling tip stay just the right side of credible and are entirely in keeping with the sad picture of a nerdy loser that he’s painted for us.

Having to constantly skip around life’s alpha males is not an easy feat for Stokes to perform especially when he has one right in the heart of his family, but a different kind of balancing act is required when his Christmas morning is ruined by tweets suggesting a colossal case of mistaken identity.

There are plenty comics of his chatty ilk who are half-decent company for an hour, but Chris Stokes has the talent to one day have the world at his feet. Even the most red-blooded Clarkson-carnivore would love him.

Pleasance Courtyard, 556 6550, until 27 Aug, 5.45pm, £8–£9 (£7).