DURING Festivals season in Edinburgh, getting lost on the way to a poorly marked venue is just part of the experience. Paying £6 for a pint is average. Wading your way through a sea of tourists as you insist that you’re not one of them is just par for the course.

A couple of those outrageously priced pints down and I was headed to chain comedy club The Stand for musical comedy group Weegie Hink Ae That (The Stand, until August 25) with a friend.

When she mentioned she wanted to see them, I swore I’d heard of them before. The moment they started singing about the size of the seagulls in Aberdeen, I remembered the exact moment I’d been sent the Instagram reel.

Boasting 36k followers on Instagram, the comedy group – who bore striking resemblances to Mhairi Black, Keir Starmer and Kermit the Frog (their words) – were on top form.

READ MORE: Paul Merton and Suki Webster discuss bringing improv to the Fringe

A veritable feast of musical laugh-out-loud comedy, the trio shone with digs at the northern England city of Edinburgh, a sketch about an invisible dug in Easterhouse, a running joke about an Irish priest and a very naughty wee boy and Scottish cowboy.

They won’t be to everyone’s taste – the jokes are crude and the audience participation may be daunting – but for those who share their brand of humour, it’s a knockout.

The jokes about their native Glasgow went down a treat with the crowd – having been soaked by a bus driving through a pothole filled to the brim with rainwater just a day prior, I laughed heartily at the callout to the council to fix them – but they didn’t limit themselves to just Glasgow.

With nods to a turbulent roadtrip to Argyll and Scotifying popular songs’ lyrics, the whole of the country was fair game.

A particular laugh came from a bit written pre-election, where two politicians who bore no resemblance to real people (the masks of Keir Starmer and Rishi Sunak as well as pitch-perfect impressions were just coincidental) had a debate where they said nothing of note and instead repeated the same facts about themselves. Anyone who has watched the debates will know where the similarities end – these two are actually funny.

Despite a lot of looseness in the performance – with audience improv, digs at one another and moments where they broke character to laugh at the absurdity of the sketch – the transitions into the songs were flawless.

A particular stand-out moment came when the trio went from ripping the pish out of one another to singing in unison straight after. They weren’t going to win any Scottish music awards for their vocals, but when the comedy is that funny, who needs perfect pitch?

After that hilarious show, comedy was on the brain. And what better than an advert I’d seen on the way there for another musical comedy?

Taking the stage of the Spare Room in The Caves until August 25, Reagan Allen swore she wasn’t a lesbian. Just an “Intelligent Bisexual Woman” – who has now sworn off dating men.

Greeting the audience with a “hello congregation!” and an invitation to pray in the chapel-like room of the Spare Room in The Caves, you know what you’re getting into from the offshoot.

With songs in the style of hymns but with lyrics that would make a priest blush, Allen dove into anecdotes about her dating life, odd experiences in lesbian bars and what she dubbed “Catholic delusion” – which encompasses both some of Catholicism’s odder beliefs as well as her own that she wasn’t queer, she promises.

Though a little less polished than the Weegie lads and with a few awkward transitions into music, Allen’s act wasn’t perfect. But when the jokes landed, they really landed. Songs about her true love Michael Cera and lesbian bars earned many a laugh. And a riff with an audience member made clear that a little more improvisation in her performance would go a long way.

Having gone to an all-girls Catholic secondary school myself and being a fellow bisexual, a lot of my laughs for Allen’s performance came from a place of relatability. It was almost cathartic to feel another lapsed Catholic make digs at transubstantiation and the queerness of the religion. But her takes came from a place of understanding, of affection for a part of her life that she no longer believes in, and as someone whose family are all still very much part of the church, I found it blasphemous but not too offensive.

After the show, fliers assured “more bisexual chaos”. After these hilarious nights out for pay-what-you-can prices, that offer is all the more tempting.