A work-in-progress stand-up hour of queer chaos, class trauma and disco dancing. Tall. Gay. Working-class. Raised on a surreal Essex cat sanctuary with a red living room he called Hell and a mum with a stencil addiction. Now trapped in Walthamstow Village between oat milk and opera – literally, his boyfriend directs it. This WIP hour dances through buffet omelettes in Ibiza, opera intermissions, Clacton ghosts and the dread of a notification. If you’ve ever felt too posh for the chip shop but too skint for the tasting menu – Ricky’s got your number.