Since the 1970s, gay men have used a range of coloured handkerchiefs to signpost their sexual preferences. The colour dictates the kink, while its position on the wearer’s body indicates either a dominant or submissive role. Since the Hanky Code’s inception, it has expanded from a few simple colours to a plethora of shades and even different fabrics, enabling a pretty niche exploration of sexual flavours. Because it can’t just be fashion with gay men, it has to have subtext too.

Raw Comedy National Finalist Jarryd Prain was our host on this tour of the rainbow of kink. Within a framework that is inherently as sexy as it is ingenious, Prain explored not only his place on the sexual spectrum, but also his journey as a gay man, and the long history of gay men having to mask their behaviours through creative and often innovative ways. It was a refreshingly inspiring lens through which to view adversity, and the resourcefulness often born out of it.

Oh, and it was also funny. Wry, dry, witty and edgy, Prain wasted no time lubing us up before a full-on assault on our funny bones (cost of admission includes consent). We were here for a good time, not a long time, as Prain did not move at a languid pace. Nor is he one-tone, he switched emotional modes frequently.

One moment we were giggling at poop and pee, the next Prain confided in us about being groomed by a sexual predator. It didn’t feel disjointed, due to the greater narrative being really well-conceived. But there were a few metaphors that could have been landed with a little more punch.

This show isn’t for everyone. It’s pretty edgy humour, and some audiences just won’t see the funny side of meth. But it’s also a show that was transparent about what it is put on by a comic who is equally transparent about who he is – so if the humour is not to your tastes, you have only yourself to blame.

And clocking in at a tight and tidy 50 minutes, at the very least it was not boring. In Prain, we have a talent who is not just a comedian, but also a storyteller. His unapologetic, candid confessionals were as relatable as they were hilarious.