Rosie Holt made her name fronting a succession of viral clips playing a nonsense-spouting spoof Tory MP who was so convincing many mistook her for the real thing.
It can be tough being a satirist, though. The kind of on-message backbencher that makes this character feel so familiar is probably going to be jobless on Friday morning. So where does that leave Holt?
The former ukelele-wielding performer need not fret too much about her own future employment prospects. If this Election Special variant of her latest show That's Politainment! is any guide, she clearly has enough talent to pull some new rabbits out of her comedy hat.
That's Politainment! – what you get if you cross politics and entertainment, she explains – kicks off with Holt in straight-faced Tory MP mode. There are plenty of laughs to be had in her repeated "Stop the Supermajority" plea, which becomes increasingly ridiculous the more she says it.
Holt's snooty creation tries to make a case for a Conservative victory but it is a wafer thin one. In fact she already wants to debut her escape route – a stand-up career. Of course, her gags are so excruciatingly bad – intentionally – they are hilarious.
After swiftly switching jackets, Holt's next character is soi-disant shock jock Harriet Langley Swindon. To be candid there is not a lot of difference here. Langley Swindon is supposed to be further to the right, but the punchlines are interchangeable, bashing wokery, mocking the left in general and the next PM – barring an asteroid striking Westminster – in particular.
At her best though, Holt perfectly sums up the state we are in, delivering tightly-crafted brutal satire with Orwellian flourishes. "Facts are a tool of the woke left," she deadpans. On the Rwanda plan – "Start the Planes!" – Holt brandishes a dictionary and demonstrates that it is easier to change the meaning of the word "safe" than change government policy, however misguided.
For those pining for balance, she also appears towards the end as her liberal self and takes potshots at the fence-sitting left, at one point imagining David Attenborough-style that she has spotted a genuine Labour policy in the wild.
Her impressions of actual people were simple but effective. Liz Truss was all robotic walking, inner voice and deep state conspiracy theories. Pretty spot-on, even if the scruffy blonde wig initially suggested Holt was about to impersonate Boris Johnson.
This thoroughly entertaining – or should that be politaining? – show concludes with a neat hint that maybe we have not heard the last of her gormless MP for Akenfield West. But whether we see the pea-brained Parliamentarian again or not, we will certainly be seeing more of Rosie Holt.
