Amy Mason’s great at beginnings. The yarn spun here starts with a mysterious arrival of a consignment of three double-ended dildos on the doorstep, properly addressed to her. What intrigue!

She already carries an air of not quite comprehending or belonging to the world – which we later learn is down to her neurodiversity – and that air of benign bafflement is only heightened by this bizarre gift.

It’s not the only peculiar event to have befallen her. Another routine starts: ‘I lost all the doors for the upstairs of my house’ – again a great beginning, definitely raising further questions.

Losing data on her phone may be a more everyday occurrence, but it meant she was denied her bipolar meds and access to the communities she’d built up online. We hear a lot about the toxicity of social media, but little about how such sites (and even Vinted in Mason’s case) can be a godsend for those who have trouble forming connections IRL. 

For someone trying to avoid her own thoughts, existing without a phone is a real ordeal, and that’s even before considering what a fine repository of porn the internet is.

Behold! is certainly a  graphic hour for a show starting before 6pm, with Mason having no qualms about forcing her audiences to think about her butthole, for example. She has a vivid turn of phrase – which is employed less dirtily on topics such as the achingly hip mums and dads on the school run in her hometown of Bristol.

All is delivered with a deadpan matter-of-factness. One trick is also to repeat the same carefully-chosen phrases time and again. It’s always ‘borderline disgraced John Barrowman’ never just ‘John Barrowman’, for example. It’s a technique borrowed from Stewart Lee but it’s highly effective.

Autobiographical titbits and quirky anecdotes are sprinkled around the show – her Catholic upbringing, coming out as a lesbian while married to a man, how she survived ‘the great MDMA drought of 2009’, finding an unexpected item in the pubic area… All the material emphasises her eccentricity, and even if the specifics are rarely relatable, her reactions usually are. 

Despite such a wide scope, Mason never loses sight of the compelling central narrative, with a perfectly constructed story that will keep you interested until its neat conclusion wraps up the loose ends.