This is the debut solo show from the flamed-haired and magnificently bearded Alasdair Beckett-King, who stands politely at the door welcoming each and every audience member. He feels like a visitor from another age; tall, skinny and dapperly dressed in a waistcoat and dress trousers with flowing red locks, it's a look he proclaims as 'renaissance Viking'.

He splits the room into Becketts and Kings, drawing us into his quirky world for an hour that feels like an eccentric family reunion. His material is also likeably weird, re-casting real life as a magical realm of wonder while you can easily believe him when he tells you he spent several weeks gadding about town as a teenager sporting a wizard's hat. Also featured are stories about looming out of the fog, veganism, and gingers becoming mythical creatures in the future, all of which are dusted with whimsy and light surrealism.

Despite a few technical difficulties (the projector breaks down 20 minutes in, which is a real shame as we only got a brief glimpse of his DIY animations) Beckett-King has enough material, otherworldly charm and gangly self-confidence to keep the good natured laughs flowing with ease.

Pleasance Courtyard, until 28 Aug (not 14), 6pm, £7.50–£9.50 (£6.50–£8.50).