She's back !!! TWONKETTA THAT IS !!!!

And just as well – because a Fringe without one of Twonkey's fabulous phantasmagorical

creations would be like Edinburgh without the Castle.

The most spellbinding tales to come out of Scotland's capital do not concern themselves with mere wizardry, but transport audiences to “wonderlands of weird” (The Scotsman)

For sixteen years Twonkey has carved a daily hour of magic out of Edinburgh's Fringe : a collection of magic moments, strung together with an enthusiastic fragility.

Definitely not sense, but certainly not nonsense, a Twonkey show takes us beyond the bounds of normal logic and reality to a place where the ridiculous is real and the narrative dances to a symphony of sheer silliness.

Think that sounds fanciful ?

Just come and see the show.

This year, from the swirling depths of Twonkey's abidingly unique imagination, comes

Twonkey's Soft December Night in Tallahassie , starring fan favourite Twonketta, fast becoming a true legend in her own lipstick. Her late and much lamented husband – Twonkey himself, would be so very proud of her.

We learn how this ex-siren, chanteuse and advocate for girls' toys came to be in charge of a fairground, to say nothing of chained to a lamp post.

With admirable lightness of touch (and frequently in song), we consider life and mortality, love and loss, and the importance of cleaning up after oneself.

There are no shows with a bigger heart than Twonkey's shows, and this year, as well as that big heart we are treated to troublesome fairies, a Joe Meek tribute and a Tiny Mein Fuhrer, as well as old friends like Chris and delightful new ones like Toots and Sue.

It is always tricky – some might say pointless - to try to sum up a Twonkey show, but close personal friend of the late Twonkey, Paul Vickers says “there is a slight undercurrent of murder as a theme”. Which is a new departure and promises much excitement

Critics should be aware that they get a special mention in the exposition of that theme.

“His idiotic joy is infectious. He is a masterclass in play” Neurodiverse Review

“The thing is : it's brilliant” Broadway Baby

“Artistry and eccentricity combine” Chortle

“Take that leap of faith, and the dreamlike scenario he sets out in his very distinctive way makes a lasting, haunting impression.” Steve Bennett Chortle

“I don't know if anyone has noticed, but I have actually got better.” Paul Vickers

Winner of Malcolm Hardee Award for Comic Originality.

Last years Twonkey's Zip Wire to Zanzibar was in the top 10% of most favourable reviewed shows in the comedy selection.

August 31, 2026    Neurodiverse Review

Beneath the glittery eyeshadow and red dolly-shoes, something is different about this soft December night.

After 16 years at the fringe, you’d think Paul Vickers, aka Twonkey aka Twonketta, would’ve said and sung all they’d needed to! But the latest instalment of the franchise, is more of a catharsis than performance. Ready with Timothy Horsepiss, a distressed stuffed kitten squeaking incomprehensible monologues and Transylvanian Finger Fantasies, the usual staples of a Twonkey show are manifested inside a collective ambient nightmare.

Beneath the glittery eyeshadow and red dolly-shoes, something is different about this soft December night. There’s a melancholy and seriousness in his asides. Fans of Twonkey will delight in reprises of Goat Girl and The Magic of the Black Forest yet will be unprepared for moments of deep reflection.

The moment when Paul reads a short story he composed whilst in psychiatric care, mingled with deprecating comments, ‘if this was ever to be successful, heaven forbid’, hits with an honesty and vulnerability. He ends the show with the final lines from Anne Frank’s Diary “I keep on trying to find a way of becoming what I would like to be, and what I could be, if…there weren’t any other people living in the world.” He treats the words with such reverence it sobers the audience.

Even the alternate dimension that Twonkey resides in can’t escape the anxieties of our age. His plaintive finale comes with the message to leave this giddy world alone. If what’s happening out there can pierce the joy of the fairground, things must be bad! Click Here For Review

August 21, 2026    One4Review

The mark of genius

Another year and another mind-bending and dumbfounding trip into the world of Fringe institution Twonkey, once described as the Fringe’s very own comedy David Lynch* – an auteur genius whose works speak volumes, but only in a language I’m not sure I comprehend.

*It was me. I said this. And I was right.

Mr Twonkey, the comic alter ego of Paul Vickers, has been well and truly killed off by his creator and Vickers returns this year as the sort-of grieving widow Twonketta, who runs a fairground built on the ancestral lands of a group of vengeful fairies, who seek to remove the invaders by any means necessary. But plot in a Twonkey show is rarely more than set dressing to loosely hold together the series of a songs, spoken word monologues, weird (and often distressing) puppets such as Chris Hutchinson (used to have the eyes of Lenny Henry) and slightly mangled cat Timothy Horsepiss.

The songs and surrealism come hard and fast in the show, with diversions from staples of the show such as a Transelvanian Finger Fantasy (acted out by tiny finger puppets right into an audience member’s face) or reflections on music producer turned murderer Joe Meek. Some of the songs are overtly comic, some more thoughtful but all with the same word-salad of imagery that heightens the feeling that you’re slowly falling into a rabbit hole into a wonderland. At the end of almost every song Twonketta flatly says “and that’s that” and sits back down as if the whole thing hadn’t happened and it’s always hilarious. And Vickers himself seems to barely be able to resist a giggle any time the audience laughs as if he himself is surprised to hear what he comes up with.

Twonkey’s Soft December Night in Tallahassee is, by the standards of its creator, a more thoughtful show, with reflections on a few things including why Vickers decided to kill off Twonkey in favour of Twonketta and the conclusion seems to be that she’s just more fun. As he sings at one point “girls toys are better than boy’s toys.”

I’ve read reviews of Twonkey shows saying that Vicker’s work is just enjoyable nonsense and that’s certainly a reading of it, but only a surface level one. I have spent years trying to find a show as inexplicable as a Twonkey show and yet every year I am again reminded that this is a futile endeavour. There are perhaps shows that are weirder, but they are few. There are perhaps shows that dip even further into the surreal and absurd, though I’d be surprised. But the mark of genius – the mark of the Lynchian – is not the weirdness, it’s the sense that while all of this seems inexplicable to me, I feel that it makes perfect sense to Paul. And that maybe when he has a little giggle it’s not at himself for being silly and strange, but at all of us for not getting it.

It perhaps goes without saying that his style is an acquired taste and that for the standard Fringe goer looking for the next comedian in a t-shirt talking about his list of poor relationship choices, they’ll not maybe understand the nuances. But for those who want to experience pure, unadulterated Fringe at its very Fringest, there’s nowhere better to turn. Click Here For Review

August 21, 2026   Neurodiverse Review

I’m Melting: The Unknown Terrors of the Fringe

Paul Vickers, former Dawn of the Replicants frontman and autistic Fringe stalwart shares some of the experiences he’s gone through over the years, part reflection, part warning, dig into the magical mind of Twonkey/Twonketta.

I’ve been performing at the Fringe for 16 years in various situations, alter egos, outlets and environments, but there is a darker side to the Fringe.

Falling asleep on a bus.

At some point during the Fringe, you may fall asleep on a bus due to pure exhaustion. The best thing to do is recover in a dignified manner, wipe any dribble that may have occurred during the time of your passing, then try and locate where you are. If you are not familiar with the city, you may become confused, distressed, and disorientated quickly. Remember as my grandma used to say you’re never lost with a tongue in your head, there’s always a kind stranger waiting to help. Ask someone directions, get back on the bus and return to a location that you feel comfortable in, then proceed as normal.

Disintegration.

At some point during the Fringe parts of your clothing will evaporate or be destroyed. Previously I’ve had pairs of shoes that have split in two and fragmented into lumps during the run. This year, the inside pockets of my Inspector Clouseau coat got holes in them overnight. The lining has evaporated and eroded rapidly, however the coat was made in 1969. For some reason the Fringe is really hard on fabrics in particular and I have noticed every year that clothing I’ve worn for years starts to become damaged and unusable within a matter of a week or two, so always be prepared by bringing extra clothing and a good handful of shoes are useful because the chances are the clothing that you normally use, including costumes will not survive the run. There will be some sort of incident where your clothing will perish or ruin.

Crying in the Chapel.

Elvis was famously proud of the fact that he was not afraid to cry in the chapel. If you need some space, peace and quiet to reset your mind, a visit to a church even if you’re not religious is a good opportunity to check in with yourself . Simply get on your knees in the pews, light a candle and give thanks to your very existence. Remember being humbled by everything is a good thing to do. There’s more important things in the world than your show and a Fringe run can make you a little self-centered and self obsessed. So taking a moment to accept the glory of God is not a bad idea. It puts you at one with the universe and at peace with yourself.

The Importance of Bubble Wrap.

Objectivity: if you are a proper comedian like myself (I.E you use props), you will need to look after your antique puppets and curios. I use about 14 metres of non perishable bubble wrap. It’s always good to use a hard case suitcase rather than a soft case one as in the communal areas things can become too compact, crushed, and utterly destroyed. Remember to protect each object carefully as props guide you through your show, without them, you will have missing holes in the tent of your own imagination. A missing prop can devastate you during a performance and knock you off and lead you into an irregular performance pattern. It could make people think you have lost your mind or simply that you’re not doing a good job. Remember to protect everything in your show as during the Fringe the show is your beating heart.

Disclaimer: this is all written partly tongue in cheek, I do love the fringe and the pure rush of a show clicking with a crowd is simply a priceless joy.

Twonkey’s Soft December Night in Tallahassee is on till the 30th August (apart from Mondays) at 20:15 Dragonfly.
 Click Here For Article

August 19, 2026    Fringe Review

When Fringe ‘comedy’ now appears to be someone just standing on stage talking about their uneventful life with a weak punchline that barely raises a smile, it’s good to see someone still doing something unique that is genuinely funny.

As on-form as it could ever be. Silly, pointless nonsense which is a huge delight

How to describe the annual hour in the company of Paul Vickers’ Twonketta (the widow of Twonkey)? You can’t. Not in any meaningful way. For those of a certain age, think of The Cure’s video for their single ‘Close To Me’. The band in a deeply claustrophobic wardrobe. Tat and finger puppets being shoved in your face whilst a twee and happy melody belies the madness. Now stick the band in a baby doll dress. That’s the best I can offer you.

Vickers has been playing the same little room at The Dragonfly on the edge of West Port for many years now. It’s the right space. You can only fit in about 20 people whilst he mostly stands in an alcove, occasionally venturing into the audience, and trying an impossible balancing act of all his demonic puppetry insanity on a small table.

If you’ve been to one of his shows, you know what to expect. Whilst the surreal Reeves & Mortimer-esque narrative changes each year, the format never does and there is comfort in this. Each of his deformed and zombified puppetry creations feel like home. When a scruffy cat called Timothy Horsepiss is seen as cute, you know you’re in a padded cell you chose to enter.

Each year I experience so many bonkers moments that have me screeching with laughter but I have forgotten half of them by the next day. There is nothing important in a Twonkey show. Nothing will change your view of the world. It’s just very, very silly. Vickers is well aware of this, as Twonketta frequently laughs along with the audience.

The story this year concerns Twonketta working alongside a group of fairies running a fairground. In Tallahassee. That remains a central tenet of the show for about fifteen seconds. Forget about it. Something equally weird is going to happen in a moment. A routine about legendary 60s music producer Joe Meek actually involving one of his most annoying tunes? Yep, we’ve got that. Your favourite serial killer? We can cover that too. Hitler. Animals making fairground rides out of their own poop. All my favourite immature interests can be found in this small space with 10 people cackling away in disbelief.

The regulars are still there. Chris Hutchinson, a beat up old anthropomorphic lion. The ship’s wheel, which discloses your most private sexual fantasies (and I was presented with the red silk knickers FOR THE FOURTH YEAR IN A ROW). The prize of a Transylvanian Finger Fantasy (finger puppets made out of paper and ping-pong balls just a few centimetres from your eyes).

All this madness alternates with songs presented as laptop backing tracks which Vickers sings along to. He still sounds somewhere between John Cooper Clarke and Cat Stevens and, I’ve got to say, this year the songs were about the best I’ve heard. Again, difficult to explain. Outsider? Industrial? Collage? Indie? It’s impossible to pigeonhole. If I have one criticism, it’s one I’ve mentioned several times in the past. Whilst the vocals are now much more clear (a better PA system, I expect), the music playback is way too loud. The lyrics are what we’re trying to hear – not that everything will suddenly click into place as a result. This year’s collection could comfortably make an album.

Twonketta wraps up on a surprisingly sombre and respectful note regarding Anne Frank and her wishes for the future. It’s a 180 turn from the rest of the show yet it absolutely works.

How can I sum this up? A Twonkey show is the most Fringe thing of the Fringe. It’s hilarious, it’s completely pointless, it’s profound, it’s oddly comforting and it’s entertaining. To try and recall what you’ve seen afterwards can make you think you were very drunk when you watched it. You were happy and laughing but bits fly in and out and nothing fits together. Vickers in a baby doll dress looks completely regular and is about as conventional as things get.

It’s a Marmite thing. You’ll love it or hate it. I’ve been enjoying it for over 15 years. It’s a glorious mess, always walking the edge of a descent into chaos. When Fringe ‘comedy’ now appears to be someone just standing on stage talking about their uneventful life with a weak punchline that barely raises a smile, it’s good to see someone still doing something unique that is genuinely funny. Click Here For Review

August 18, 2026    North West End

You will definitely not find anything like this anywhere else.

Other than the closing line of one of Twonketta’s musical interludes, there was no ‘Soft’, ‘December’, ‘Night’ or ‘Tallahassee’. Of course there wasn’t. Welcome to the Twonkey-sphere. Or Twonko-verse. Or, since the unceremonious, Ziggy S-style curtailment of Twonkey’s career a couple of years back, maybe the Twonketta-sphere? Some are starting to question the story about the tin of condensed milk, sensing the hallmarks of a particularly ruthless boardroom takeover. Still, Twonketta feigns such remorse that we accept, attend and note that most of the backing props and puppets have moved on too. With gusto they set about this adventure, a complex chilli-spiced grapefruit, designed to give most professional chefs a seizure. One which the Marvel franchise can only dream of. So, hold on… tight!

If it’s comedy, musical theatre, poetry and cabaret you’re after Twonketta is the complete package; singing, dancing, a touch of burlesque, no turn un-stoned. It’s rumoured the Royal (Ballet) are on the waiting list for one of her weekend workshops. To this year’s plot; the fairies are trying to move the fun fair to a swamp (in Tallahassee, obvs), giving them the opportunity to reclaim their enchanted valley. Somehow related to this are Tim Horsepiss, a rat-catching cat without the required skillset, an overdressed Chris Hutchison nursing his failing eyes and lower jaw. Shaky’s there, his muse Cicciolina and their resourceful offspring Tutti Cnutti (AKA Toots) successfully pulling off a spectacular heist to accrue more mats for the Helter skelter. The Great Dictator played a short cameo; the full performance may well be available at a Wetherspoons near you soon. Amongst all this there’s still time to celebrate Waltzer Sue’s birthday and listen to some found audio footage of Joe Meek’s last hours.

The front rows loved this. A couple at the back had clearly walked into the wrong show. What’s not in doubt is that the surreality and subversion is as vital as ever. And very funny. There are thousands of shows at hundreds of venues in Edinburgh during August; you will definitely not find anything like this anywhere else. Click Here For Review