Michelle Reid: Tell us a little about yourself.

Morgan Brayton: I am very small. I live in a hollow tree and only come out at night to pee in the shoes of naughty children while they sleep. When not casting magic in the Enchanted Forest, I am a comedian, actor, writer and bookkeeper.

MR: How did you get into comedy?

MB: I kept trying to be a serious dramatic actress and people kept laughing. If you can’t beat ’em and all that.

I’d been acting professionally for a number of years but then, in 1995 or so, I joined a 14 member all-female sketch comedy collective called Girl Parts. After a while, some of us branched out and formed a troupe called 30 Helens.

Sketch comedy was the first time in my life I ever felt like, “Oh, HERE’S where I’m supposed to be!” Comedy is belonging for outsiders. Except for ventriloquism. Ventriloquism is belonging for people who justifiably don’t belong anywhere.

MR: What do you like best about performing?

MB: The money. I make so much money as a Canadian comedy performer it’s obscene.

MR: What do you like best about the Vancouver comedy scene?

MB: I like that there’s no pressure to succeed. You don’t have to worry about someone seeing you and giving you a TV series or anything. It really allows for freedom of creative expression.

MR: What do you like least?

MB: When people don’t understand sarcasm.

MR: What show or performance of yours has been your favourite?

MB: I played a dancing ladybug in an opera when I was 5. I know in my heart I will never be that good again.

Since then? Well, there is a thing that happens in comedy that I compare to surfing–which makes no sense because I’ve never been surfing and can’t even swim. It’s where you have waves of audience laughter coming at you and you really feel like you’re riding those crests as far as you can and it’s absolutely the best feeling in the world. Except you’re also leading the waves so maybe it’s more like dancing.

Okay, there’s a thing that happens in comedy that I compare to dancing–which makes no sense because my wife never wants to go dancing with me anymore. It’s where you feel like you’re Kanye West and you’re surrounded by a bunch of very pretty, very hungry ballerinas. Except you don’t hate women so maybe it’s more like – look, I like a show when people laugh and think and feel a little more connected to other human beings at the end of it.

That’s the purpose of comedy, as far as I’m concerned. That and making obscene amounts of money as previously mentioned.

MR: What are some acts or performers besides Morgan Brayton worth checking out around town?

MB: Any chance you get to see Jan Derbyshire perform is a chance you should grasp. Brilliant, funny, brave, smart, great writing, captivating performing, snazzy shirts.

Graham Clark is a national treasure and the fact that Vancouver still has him is luck that will not last. Emmett Hall always feels like he came out of nowhere, no matter how much I anticipate his hilarity. Rosa Parks Improv doles out some pretty smart, sassy comedy for a bunch of girls. Paul Anthony’s Talent Time, the Hero Show and the Sunday Service are always surefire laughs. Alicia Tobin delights me to no end.

Vancouver also has a fantastic burlesque scene that features broad comedy with the added benefit of occasional nudity. Screaming Chicken’s Taboo Revue Burlesque Variety Show and the Vancouver International Burlesque Festival are great places to discover burlesque and its brand of playful comedy. This is an incomplete list and I offer no money-back guarantees, even though I can totally afford to do so because of all the money I make doing comedy.

Check out Morgan’s act at The Sad Comedy show this Thursday, January 13th at the Cobalt.