Amy Hetherington’s one-person stand-up show Don’t Feed The Ducks is a little of a misnomer. If you are expecting an hour of duck jokes, you’d be disappointed. There are duck jokes. But, there’s also a whole lot more to the show.

From the moment that the audience are squeezed into the broom-cupboard sized Hell’s Kitchen at the Rhino Room, Hetherington was there greeting guests and getting to know them. Only the brave sit in the front row at such an intimate gig as this, but the two Paul’s were up for the challenge. They participated good naturedly and added to the whole experience.

Amy’s Territorian personality shines through from the very first moment. She is endearing, witty, captivating and a little bit saucy. The show is essentially a fast-paced monologue, made up of short stories about her Dad, Mum and what’s it’s like growing up in 90s Darwin.

There were so many relatable references to the nineties in particular, that every story had someone in the audience nodding knowingly in agreement. It’s hard to know where the truth overlapped into fiction, but it was all good fun along the way.

Audience participation was easy and willing, with everyone made to fell a special part of Amy’s circle. It was a roller-coaster ride of topics that crossed the whole gamut of dangerous children’s games, nipple hairs, nude beaches and much, much more.

Amy is quite the ambassador for the Northern Territory, and she clearly loves the people land and lifestyle. There were thankfully only two songs, which qualifies it as a musical comedy and securing more funding apparently. However, the hour flies by and suddenly we are all saying goodbye, like meeting new friends at a party and having to part.

Amy Hetherington’s Don’t Feed The Ducks is a feel-good show that deserves to sell out every night.