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 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