There are three men onstage; one has a string of real sausages around his neck, one a pink feather boa and the third is covered in shaving foam. Behind them a screen shows images of a man in a papier mache face mask - think a far more disturbing Frank Sidebottom - running around a field of sheep and hiding behind rocks. They start chanting, slowly; "Fight! Fight! Fight!", and then unleash a form of art punk folk psychedelia-gone-dark that has precisely no comtemporaries in modern music or indeed anything else. One minute they're a mildly threatening Violent Femmes doing film noir soundtracks, the next an acoustic goth Fall with the scariest sounding flute you've ever heard. These comparisons are still pretty wide of the mark. "Everyone on the farm is dead", they intone in low voices. At which point papier mache head man wanders through the door and starts waving a small sprig of leaves in peoples' faces. Feather boa and flute and jumps down from the stage and wrestles him to the ground. This is Mr. Heartbreak, and you might well have nightmares. The three men onstage, by the way, are Mr. Venice, Mr. Goodnight and Hen. They throw the content of a packet of Werthers Originals into the crowd, without really making much of a point of it. By the end, pretty much everyone is standing aghast whilst Mr Heartbreak crawls around and picks up the remaining sweets. They really have to be seen to be believed; afterwards I go and ask the Fugitive Motel ladies, seeing them for the first time, what they thought of them. It's a good few seconds before either of them can actually form a word. Truly one of the performances of the weekend.