The upstairs room at Clerkenwell’s Betsy Trotwood provided as cosy venue as any for the launch of Confederacy of Dunces, it’s new monthly resident comedy night. With such luminaries as Lucy Porter and Simon Munnery on the opening bill, there’s potential for this night to become a firm Farringdon favourite.

Her easy charisma papering the gaps in a line-up hit by North London traffic, MC Deborah Sabapathy enjoyed an easy patter with the near-full room though she avoided too much lazy, “so, where ya from?”, regional humour.

On a number of occasions she hit her stride with blunt recollections of her recent past, including a particular nasal flooding and the whereabouts of her sunglasses.

For a lady who says she doesn’t enjoy talking to strangers, she certainly seemed to be on song tonight. First on the bill is Mark Allen, to tell us what cats really want. Maybe, he considers, when a cat presents its owner with a freshly-caught mouse, it is a hint as to preferred flavour of cat food.

Indeed, he asks, when in the wild would a moggy be able to catch beef let alone make some gravy to go along with it? Ending with a treatise on the origins of the conga, Allen’s quick wit and polished performance make him stand out amongst more established names.

Next up was Danielle Ward, to give a sneak preview of her Edinburgh show. Still embryonic, various topics were shrewdly linked together with the comic’s occasional palm-ward glance. The recent winner of an online competition, albeit one devised by herself, she detailed a message posted on a fellow competitors website but admitted to not being so smug to one of the younger losers. On the basis of this peep-show, she may just end up with the need to post some more notes online come the end of August.

Operating from a North London den, luscious Lucy Porter provides yet more proof that an imaginary dog should be no barrier to a successful stand-up. Musing on a recent trip to the States, she equates a Harvard Business School Graduate’s relationship advice with whoring and highlights the futility of after work drinks, LA-style.

Finishing up with tips for a romp around Bangkok’s bars, Porter leaves all and sundry with a dirty great grin on their face, even before she has handed out cake. Few people could have penned the verse opening the headline set, a verse that calls for a gay space program.

Luckily for those at CoD, tonight it was Simon Munnery.

An assured presence, he happily fills much of his slot with, well, not very much at times. He does articulate the two choices in London’s housing market, himself having recently opted out of an expensive tiny room with no view option for the “piss off somewhere else” route.

This move has also inspired his intention to branch out into rural comedy- with his material on ivy he might just be going where no other comic has previously dared. Ending with another poem, Munnery showed that his bag of tricks, actual and figurative, allows a flexible and engaging performer.

By Ian Rigby