Men behaving more badly than you could imagine

Just how do two Aussies tackle the Loch Ness Monster, Prince Philip and a hamburger? Veronica Lee is impressed

From little acorns do mighty oaks grow. Who could have known that this piece of pastoral wisdom would apply to Puppetry of the Penis, one of the strangest shows that the Edinburgh Fringe has ever seen? The genital origami was a huge hit last month and is now set to take London by storm.

From little acorns do mighty oaks grow. Who could have known that this piece of pastoral wisdom would apply to Puppetry of the Penis, one of the strangest shows that the Edinburgh Fringe has ever seen? The genital origami was a huge hit last month and is now set to take London by storm.

The set-up is simplicity itself. David Friend and Simon Morley come on stage dressed only in capes, floppy hats and socks, throw away the capes and disport their genitalia, making the shapes of landmarks, animals and people - the Loch Ness Monster, a piece of cold fried chicken, the Duke of Edinburgh, and their trademark, the hamburger. In between there is some very funny chat (which gives the audience time to recover its breath either from shock or laughter) before the next dick trick.

Its hard to believe that such a show would have been possible at the Fringe even five years ago. But performerJim Rose, who did unspeakable things with his bits, has been and gone and the city elders given up the fight for righteousness during the Fringe, saying that objecting to any show on grounds of taste merely guarantees it's a sell-out.

Friend (31, with theatrical moustaches) and Morley (33, all surfer chic) are two archetypal Aussies - friendly, self-depreciating, their conversation filled with guffaws. Their act may be the worst case of arrested development since Oedipus, but when they talk about their tricks, one could almost believe that manipulating your penis on stage every night is the most normal job in the world.

They are both at pains to say their act is not meant to be offensive ("It's not sexual. We are very cautious and we don't swear"), but they hope that for their audiences, as for them, it's just one huge laugh. They get guys coming up to them all the time suggesting new tricks, but their favourite audience response is from women, particularly the blue-rinse brigade. "We did one show where a group of them were sitting in the front row and we thought, 'Jeez', says Morley. "But they were wiping away the tears and one came up to us afterwards and said, 'Son, I've been waiting 65 years to laugh at a penis like that'.

"Some find it liberating, some women find it demystifies the penis, others think it glorifies it. Whatever you think of it, it demands a reaction."

On one occasion in Edinburgh, there was a teenage girl in the audience. "God, we may have ruined her sex life for ever," says Friend, mock aghast. "No, ruined her boyfriend's, more like," Morley chimes in. "'Come back and see me when you can do a pelican, mate'."

Despite the easy humour, they approach their act professionally. "We are in our way quite serious about our art. We workshop the tricks, we construct them properly", although they admit this is the first time they will be rehearsing. While they are quite happy for people to think that they are both well-endowed, they admit they do exercises before the show. "We make it stretchy and warm up before we go on. After that the lights keep it warm."

Do they ever think what on earth are they doing? "Oh yeah," says Morley. "There are the occasional moments when reality interrupts, like when we're peering over the other's penis and saying, 'I think we should try this'."

He got a little moment of reality in Edinburgh when he need a fine drill bit for the act - and it wasn't to repair the set. "I went to a shop and an old Scotsman served me. I thought I couldn't leave without checking it was right, so I tested it there. He threw me out."

The show started as mates having a laugh "after way too much beer". Apparently, men manipulating their tackle is common is Oz; Friend is adamant that every town has its own dick-tricker - "Just ask the local rugby club", says Morley. "People found out we had this special talents and we'd be persuaded to take our pants off and do them at parties. The reaction and laughter was incredible and we thought we might as well be paid for doing this."

So they made a 20-minute show out of their tricks and took it to the 1998 Melbourne Comedy Festival, rather hoping to cause a bit of a rumpus. Instead, the conservative the Melbourne Age described it as the hit of the festival. They have since toured Australia, where from time to time they play in the same town where Morley's father - "a Marian apparitionist who travels the South Pacific with a statue of the Virgin Mary" - is holding a devotional meeting. "We just blow him out of the water."

Friend's parents are happy, but less than eager, fans; his mother wishes it was "anybody else's son but hers" while his father, an army major, is sanguine: "He's old enough to do what he bloody wants."

In honour of what's going on Down Under at the moment, they have a new Olympic flame routine for their West End show, and they are developing a Millennium Dome when they can get the spikes right. After their London run, the duo hope to take their genitals (insured for £1m apiece) on a tour of Britain. God knows what Leamington Spa will think.

'Puppetry of the Penis': Whitehall Theatre, SW1 (020 7369 1735), from Thursday