How did the show come about?

Well, for a while I had quite a strong aversion to sketch comedy. Seth once called the entire format 'artistically bankrupt' – hilariously in retrospect – and to an extent I agreed with him; a lot of sketch comedy, particularly in Cambridge, didn't seem to be doing anything particularly new or interesting. It all felt a bit disposable; these sketches were quite efficiently designed to get laughs, but I've always felt comedy should do more than just that; it should introduce a new perspective or idea, challenge an audience, not pander to it. There seems to be an ongoing campaign to sanitise comedy.

Do you mean political correctness?

Well, there is that, but that's something of a different issue. By sanitise, I mean making it tidier, neater, 'tighter'. I'm interested in making comedy that's a bit more... untidy. I enjoy things that are weird, unsettling, confusing. One of my favourite types of audience laughter is when they don't quite know whether they should laugh, or what they are laughing at. But neither do I want to become one of those irritating people who seem set on offending people. For me it's about finding that middle ground between clichéd safety and shock value.

So with these thoughts in mind I assembled the gang to do a sketch show that promised to be at least a bit different.  The original title was actually 'Artistically Bankrupt: Yet Another Fucking Sketch Show'. I've calmed down a bit since then. But there still remains some satire in the new title; in part the show mocks the very middle-class, 'safe' humour it purports to contain. So it's an ironic title, though the satire is fundamentally affectionate.

How does the show differ to your last production, Sitcom: A Sitcom?

It's a different beast entirely really. Sitcom: A Sitcom was quite heavily an anti-comedy; most of the humour came from how deliberately unfunny and contrived everything was, and just how far we would stretch that. People either got it or they didn't; admittedly, we did veer rather close to becoming exactly what we were satirising. I can't speak for the others but as far as my contribution went, it came from a very strange place, personally speaking.

Personally speaking?

(He takes a long draw from his cigarette and looks wistfully into the distance.) I'm a tortured fucking artist, Jonny. I've loved too much and liked too little. I did coke off an owl's back. What I'm saying is that I'm in a better place now, and I think my comedy is better for it. I wouldn't like to think that Quinoa is intentionally 'broader'- we've avoided sketch comedy tropes as much as we can- but it is altogether a lot less nihilistic, and probably less divisive. I mean, it has actual jokes. To me it feels more like a sincere attempt to be funny. But there are some similarities: we are still quite crude. And Patrick's beanie hat makes a reappearance. And we've got another bit about blowjobs. No on-stage fellatio this time though. But there's still time.

So fundamentally you just want the audience to have a good time?

Definitely. And I'd like them to be a bit confused too. We've toned the weirdness down a bit, though. While me and Michael were at the Edinburgh Fringe this year, we ate a lot of hummus and wrote the 'Homosexual God' sketch, which at the time we were convinced was the best thing either of us had written. We sat down and looked at it the other day and it did not stand the test of time. It's not that it was particularly offensive, just completely indecipherable as to what on earth we were attempting to satirise, if anything. But knowing us it'll probably be back in the show in a few days.

Why should people see your show?

It's only £6. It has some very funny people in it. I like to think it's fairly original. We (hopefully) have set that is far too ambitious for a show of this kind. Michael pretends to be a lizard. There's a Nando's sketch. We have quite a few sketches that revolve around shitting, death and Waitrose; the three certainties in this world. And the ending might surprise you. Do come.