Back at the Fringe for a third time, this two-named trio (don't ask) with roots in the Oxford Revue are giving away a generous amount of laughs for free. It's the comedy equivalent of several pints, a few chasers and a cheeky shot of absinthe, just to keep things interesting.
Rory and Tim (and Iain) have tapped a rich vein of post-university panic to produce some acutely well-observed and cringingly funny sketches about being twenty-something today. One recurring joke sees Tim feigning amnesia, a choking fit and being foreign to hide the fact that he can't name the current Prime Minister.
This is comedy for a post-recession graduate generation, lumbered with expectations they have nowhere to put and a vague feeling that they might not be up to the task of real life. It's also deftly daft, approaching familiar scenarios from ingenious angles to lift the humour out of the student common room.
From the surrealism of alien god-worshipping gym-goers to frantic emergency surgery conducted on a failed relationship, the three guys clamber across a comic terrain filled with consistently unusual vantage points. Sometimes the show is just brilliantly silly, as tubes of Fruit Pastilles prepare bravely to take the plunge in a vending machine.
In the end, Rory and Tim (and Iain) are cracking company for an hour. Everything moves at a quick-fire pace, with few sketches outstaying their welcome and another laugh always around the next corner.