Bring on the spandex and spangles – would Club Smooch’s line up of acts live up to its promise of glamour, comedy, burlesque and, most tantalising of all, “special treats”? With a face painted like a sparkly-eyed panda, compere Des O’Connor belied his namesake. Whipping out a ukulele, he trotted out cunningly crafted numbers and regaled us with witty repartee.

Expectations were high as The Bears – a trio of comfortably-built men - wobbled on. Dubbing themselves the “rejects of the homosexualist community", they made a feeble attempt at foisting their idea of comedy on the rest of society.

Next up was Trixie Vixen, whose limp tribute to Jessica Rabbit was as sexy as soggy cabbage, followed by a sketch from Moulin Rude that felt more M&S than S&M.

The tedium was relieved by strip artist Marianne Cheesecake who gave one of her hands a life of its own and let it roam over her body.

Strangely though, the highlight of the night was nothing to do with sex. It was the plummy-mouthed banjo-strumming Mr B The Gentleman Rhymer who, with rap songs such as Let Me Smoke My Pipe, stimulated that most erotic, yet often overlooked part of the anatomy - the funny bone.