'This is the weirdest show I've done'.

It had been a good 45 minutes of interrupted jokes, interjections, bizarre ramblings and frankly insanity - from the audience. Stephen K Amos was given a run for his money.

When plodding on with a joke (which, yes, did take a few detours, that's the magic of live stand up is it now?), an impatient woman in the audience boomed 'so what did he say?' To get him back on track, he dropped his head in hands, unbelieving, burst out laughing, took her to task and carried on with his story.

Bear in mind, that was probably the tenth such outburst from the audience since the start of his show at the Wyvern Theatre on Friday.

Most comedians would probably have had a right strop, stormed off stage and be done with it, as has happened many a time to big names who can dish it out but not take it once the gates of fame have been opened to them. And frankly I must admit I would not have held it against him if he had.

But one thing you need to know about Stephen K Amos is that if there is only one thing he loves more than a challenge, it is audience participation- whatever form it may take. He never missed a bit and in fact made damn sure not to let any flying comment, outburst or even apology - one particular woman decided to apologise whenever her fits of giggles got out of control - unacknowledged and duly corrected. He worked each and everyone of them into his show proper (the second 'act') and the first act, during which he was his own warm up for lack of a green stand-up to do the honours and start off the gig.

Having first seen Stephen K Amos perform at the Edinburgh Festival, I knew one thing about him. He researches every town and city before a show, more so than your average comedian. Swindon was no exception. From the town's parochial ways to the Regent Circus development, and the infamous magic roundabout, nothing escaped the eagle-eyed stand-up.

As the show began, he welcomed the audience, in his best country bumpkin 'accent' to the special meeting called by Sweendoon Council to discuss the urgent need to eradicate Waitrose and instead bring a cinema to the town.

After a passing quip at Nick Clegg's visit reported in the Sweendoon Advertiser ( I felt chuffed to be included in his routine in a small way under the Sweendoon Advertiser umbrella!), he moved on to dissecting his childhood and quirks of his Nigerian family's unorthodox parenting skills, before revealing a folded piece of paper and proceeding to test some jokes for his new television show. This was brave if you ask me. But by that point he had gauged he could count on the motley crew of shouters or comedy 'clock lockers' as he called them to be brutally honest.

Even when more controversial topics such as sexual orientation and race didn't quite get the unanimously tolerant reaction he expected, he stood his ground, drawing as many laughs as he could and he certainly succeeded.

I must agree with Stephen K Amos: it was the oddest show I'd been to. It was also one of the funniest, freshest, and most memorable I'd attended in years. And it is testament to Amos's unparalleled wit and repartee.