On stage, Brian Damage adopts the persona of a depressed, desperate, down-on-his-luck comedian, a proper moody bastard reluctantly trudging his way through the dregs of pub-based entertainment.

He's browbeaten by the disappointments the world relentlessly heaps upon his rounded shoulders and tries to find some small escape in his comic songs, which he belts out with an almost palpable joylessness.

In fact, the only satisfaction he seems to derive from life is from tormenting his hapless assistant; the super-dense, glamourless Krysstal. Yes, remarkably, he's manged to find some loser lower down the social order than himself, someone he can bully to raise his own battered esteem.

If this all sounds a bit bleak, don't be deterred. Damage positively celebrate s inadequacies, both in himself and in the deranged and hopeless who he introduces at his London venue Pear Shaped, which revels in being the city's 'second worst comedy club'.

While the hopelessness of their situation gives their comedy a depth, the grumpy, chaotic and slightly sleazy Damage brings an appealing 'sod-em-all' wit to his otherwise bitter act.

Thus the often-cheesy gags are all upbeat ­ sold with all the phone pizzazz they can muster. The songs, likewise, are a subtle and contradictory mix of the cheerful and the cheerless, which are great, if stupid fun.

If these pair harboured more ambition, they could surely be a much greater success. But then that would spoil the 'loser' illusion, wouldn't it?