Perrier-winner Will Adamsdale has every right to punch the air and chant: "Achieved!".
Steve Bennett writes: It's one of the slogans his creation Chris John Jackson uses in the spoof 'life method', and it couldn't be more apt.
The show, Jackson's Way, has been the sleeper hit of the festival, initially planned for just a week-long run at the Underbelly, word-of-mouth quickly spread, thanks in no small part to comedian Stewart Lee.
Lee championed the cause even though he witnessed many walkouts during the seven times he saw the show, as confused punters failed to see the joke.
It's no surprise. The idea of spoofing the pseudo-psychology of motivational speakers is not a promising one, especially as Comedy Store Player Neil Mullarkey has been having some success with his character L Vaughan Spencer for the past couple of years.
But the joy of Jackson's Way isn't the dead-on parody, but more the ridiculous theories that he espouses; mainly the idea we should do more pointless things in out lives. Not pranks, they have the purpose of entertainment, but genuinely futile gestures like trying to rhyme two words that clearly don't, or putting your hand in two places at once.
The show then spirals out into ever more weird territory, mixing in some benign audience participation and building up a huge wave of energy that carries you out of the room. It's hard to describe the rapture he creates, but you want to come straight back in the following day and ride the ride all over again.
The Perrier success will be a huge boost to Adamsdale, a 30-year-old actor formerly best known for playing Nigel Havers' son in Manchild. His champion, Lee, might have mixed feelings, mind. In his own show, the principled stand-up takes issue with parent company Nestlé's policies by joking: "Every time you buy a ticket for a Perrier-nominated show, a baby dies. Literally."
It was a bold move, then, for Perrier to award the best newcomer prize to the bizarre Wil Hodgson, a punk former wrestler from the West Country with strong anarchic views. But no political points were scored, and the accolade graciously accepted.
Much has been made of the insidious nature of the Perrier, with claims that the art of comedy doesn't benefit from being turned into a competition by a multinational corporation.
But for the judges (who are never pressured by the sponsors, to their
credit) to pick two unknown winners - each with shows that couldn't be described as typical Perrier material, if such a thing exists - means that praise has been given where it's due, and hopefully provided a fillip to at least two fledgling comedy careers.
The other nominees,¼ Chris Addison, Sarah Kendall, Reginald D Hunter and American sketch duo Epitaph in the main award; stand-up Alun Cochran, character act Jo Neary and physical duo Sabotage ¼should all feel the benefit, too.
The Party
The party at which this was announced was something of a lacklustre affair, despite the elegant settings of Edinburgh College of Art.
Suitably enough for an award sometimes seen as divisive, a VIP area arbitrarily dividing the party-goers into two groups. You can tell from the very fact I'm mentioning it I was the wrong side of the line, but this is not a "don¸t you know who I am?" rant, honest, just an observation that the idea sucks: the spirit of the Fringe is that we are all in it together.
A sizeable proportion of people didn't stick around anyway, with the party thinning out soon after the announcement.
It was described to me like a 'freshers' week do' ¼and it certainly felt more like a disco where teenagers, who've spent a month giving out flyers, try to get off with each other, and not the biggest party in the comedy year.
Mind you, it's been a long month for everyone concerned. I think we all just want our beds.
