Over-excited, over-sexed and over-the-top, Mandy Knight is as frisky as a terrier in heat.

Like a predatory aunt racing against the menopause to aggressively seduce, or rather corrupt, some innocent young boy, she launches a fast and furious tirade of filthy banter against the audience. And like the naïve teenager, the audience may be shocked – but they are helpless against the relentless, sordid attention.

Knight gets by purely on this flirty energy, bounding nimbly from inappropriate comment to inappropriate comment, creating a buzz by the speed and passion of the delivery.

It’s not so much the lines she delivers – which often rely on shock value more than clever wit for the laughs - but the impressive rate they come tumbling out, and all with an attitude that’s equal parts slut and bitch, desperate and hostile.

And there’s no denying her tongue is quick and sharp against those of whom she almost arbitrarily disapproves. No wonder that with a take-no-prisoners stance like that she was the first female comedian to be MC at both Jongleurs and the Comedy Store. Twenty minutes is really about as long as you can take of this, as towards the end of her standard club set the limitations of this persona start peeking through the powerhouse deliver. But for that duration, the woman does have the audience’s rapt attention, that’s for sure.