Hill has an energy that is scarcely possible to believe. She galavants around the Fringe in a t-shirt that reads: 'Rainbow hair, don't care' accompanied with a colourful skirt and beaming smile.
She has all the jokes and stories to tell but leaves it to the audience to decide the order, even risking when to tell the finishing story. These include how her husband proposed and so-bad-they're-good jokes – there's a knock-knock joke in there, too.
Some of the stories need to be told using her magnificent pop-up books, demonstrating some top class arts and crafts. Seeing her on stage, it's hard not to think it's a huge effort maintaining that level of happiness despite jokes of self-deprecation and embarrassment. However, by the end you feel unendingly uplifted.
It'd seem that Hill has little time for morose political or observational comedy and so Out Of Order – whose name is cracking on its own – is a great pause for the politically charged today. Her stage presence makes her a remarkable fit for mainstream television and I reckon larger audiences would take to her comedy, in particular its random nature, quick fire.
An innocent and wildly creative comedian whose precious stories deserve to be both seen and heard. This is difficult to create without many props and gimmicks. However, armed with her sketchbook, board of clues and microphone, Out Of Order is a no frills but full energy, absurd marvel.
Bec Hill: Out Of Order is on at 17:15 at the Gilded Balloon Teviot until 27 August. For tickets and more info, visit the Fringe website.