With his star in the ascendent thanks to recent TV appearances, the barely-out-of-his-20s Carl Donnelly has decided to ditch the boyish long locks and opt instead for a more cropped look, writes Alex Scoppie.

One that makes him resemble, as he freely admits, a young Rolf Harris.

Affable and assured, he gets to know the room by asking what people wear to bed, his theory that the older you get, the more you wear, quickly disproved by a sexagenarian who prefers pants to pyjamas.

Carl switched tack to take in a few pet hates, including actual pets (he's still patiently waiting for his hamster to die), bags of pre-cut fruit, and panel-show laughing-stock Jamelia.

A skilled anecdotalist, his unsettling account of a baby on a train soothed by its father's smart phone revealed a technophobic side which could do with being developed.

He's hardly a seething cauldron of rage, however, and left the audience with the impression of a wryly observant, if slightly bumbling, wit thanks to a permanent toothy grin and a habit of accidentally belching into the microphone.

It's this personability, backed up by a shrewd intelligence and witty sucker-punchlines, that suggests Donnelly's a stand-up who's here to stay, and to succeed.