Jennifer O’Sullivan and Matt Powell play up their fear and trepidation of what is about to happen in order to increase the sense of jeopardy inherent in this Awkward Threesome. Their third player is about to knock on the door and they have no idea who it will be – but we are here to watch, tickets have been paid for, there is no way out. It has to happen.

For those who know their BATS geography, Jen and Matt have entered from the Dome’s eastern end (the stairs go down to the dressing room behind the Propeller Space) while their mystery player is hiding out in the Green Room off the landing at the western end, next to the office. Pippa Drakeford is the gatekeeper and the selection has been made by Christine Brooks, currently in the UK.

Musician Oliver Devlin is quietly tickling his electronic keys, operator Darryn Woods is poised at the lighting desk, no-one has any idea what will happen … and something has to. That’s the deal.

Did I mention this is an improv show (the first of three that Jen and Matt will perform in, the other two being Playshop’s Admen and the epic Lyall Baywatch – which is Matt’s excuse for sporting a retro moustache)?  

Opening night’s mystery guest turns out to be improv veteran Laura Irish from Nelson (and before that the USA), up here to perform in the family musical Misunderstood (also improv). They’re delighted to see each other of course. Presumably the improv community is close enough for instant recognition. Even so, wouldn’t it be dramatic if they had a brain freeze on the guest’s name! All part of the jeopardy factor, I guess.

One audience ask-for gets them started: “Wizard School” in honour of the just-announced news that JK Rowling’s eighth Harry Potter story (the script of the stage play Harry Potter and the Cursed Child) is going to be published as a book moments after midnight on 31 July. They choose to alternate school scenarios with wizard-related ones.  

Jen kicks off the first recurring plotline with an email to Ms Rowling about the Pottermore Wiki ap’s inability to select her for the house she wants to be in: Slitheryn not Hufflepuff.

Matt’s meek schoolboy eats his lunch while Jen’s teacher rages at being disrespected and her colleague, played by Laura, is supportive despite pointing out Jen has no experience or qualifications.

Matt and Laura set up a third scenario involving doddery old Wizard Harold, still trying to perfect a potion he’s been working on for 30 years, and Wizard Gryzelda, who whips up a love potion to lively effect.

Then there is the queue for the 8^th book, where Laura and Jen’s know-lots fans take pity on Matt’s next timid boy. Being home-schooled by very Christian parents, he has never read a harry Potter book. Lent a smart phone to read up online, he eventually starts making comments and asking questions that have the aficionados in the audience – the majority, it seems – enthralled and in stitches.

With nowhere to hide to confer, it’s remarkable how intuitively this threesome picks up on who is leading into the next part of which scenario. Each one balances assertive claiming of space and character with an admirable capacity to accept each other’s offers and build on them.

Abetted by exceptional musical accompaniment and astute lighting, not least in knowing when to fade down on a scene, all the scenarios have come to a satisfying end bang on the 50-minute mark.

The bar is set high. Will the chemistry be just as good with the next mystery guests? Take the risk – it’s bound to pay off.

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