As obviously unlikely as it would be in the real world, subtlety is the middle name of neither Robin Clyfan nor Charlie Partridge. Theirs was a double-act show with a vague story running through it which teetered on the edge of awfulness on far too many occasions for comfort. But by the skin of their collective teeth, this wild and wacky duo managed to earn some enough largely on the basis of excitable energy.

On one of the downsides, there’s probably not a single Guardian reader who watches all those Scandic TV dramas that hasn’t mucked about in their home (hopefully not alone) delivering a sentence in a foreign tongue before chucking in some English at the end of the sentence. So, it’s somewhat dispiriting to see Robin and Partridge perform a lengthy sketch in this vein, presumably foraging under the assuming that it’s massively original.

Their opening gambit of a pompous couple is an overall success, even if it’s one that, like the insufferable party guests they portray, outstays its natural welcome. It will be interesting to see if they can maintain their chief attribute (a rabid enthusiasm) all the way to the Fringe’s finale for a show in which Robin strives manfully to stay alive at the end of its hour. Or at the very least deliver a set of final words that will have a profound meaning for generations to come.

Pleasance Courtyard, 556 6550, until 24 Aug (not 18), 2.15pm, £7-£9 (£6-£8).