On a chilly Wednesday evening in December, locals gather to escape the midweek monotony at A Very Kuhl Showcase, a monthly comedy event at the Corner Beet. With room for just forty people, the cozy space is alive with the kind of energy only a sold-out crowd can create; comedy fans and performers alike are eager to hear headliner Rory Scovel, a nationally recognized comedian who recently relocated to Denver.
The show opens with producer and host Ryan Ergo, who warms up the room with a sharp, self-aware set. Most of his jokes, whose subjects range from his parents’ divorce to youth pastors declaring babies sinners, land with precision. But when a riff on megachurches falls flat, Ergo doesn't miss a beat: “I’m not surprised that megachurch reference at a vegetarian cafe didn’t work,” he quips, quickly winning back the audience and setting the stage for the night ahead.
Gabby Gutierrez-Reed follows, sharing stories about her life as a bisexual Mexican barista. Though she struggles to connect with her early jokes, she finds her stride when she engages an audience member who'd reacted a little too loudly to jokes about "strippers" and discovers he's the director of a nonprofit. That exchange is comedic gold, prompting callbacks from other comedians, who dub him "the nonprofit stripper guy."
Next, Geoff Tice delivers a polished, crowd-pleasing set filled with razor-sharp observations and personal anecdotes. From fast-food rivalries like Popeye’s versus Chick-fil-A to navigating parenting and generational divides on TikTok, Tice keeps the laughter rolling with a confident, natural rhythm.
Then comes Scovel, with his signature mix of improvisation and daring material. He opens by riffing on the Corner Beet’s eclectic decor, then launches into a story about his recent vasectomy, complete with awkward encounters involving an overly attractive nurse. Finally, he pulls out his notebook to test experimental jokes about Jeffrey Epstein, politics and conspiracy theories that meet with wild approval.
After the show, the performers mingle with the audience members, all enjoying the comic camaraderie.
For Ergo, that sold-out evening was the culmination of over a year of hard work honing a unique comedy night. "The evening with Rory felt awesome," he recalls. "We've been doing that show at the Corner Beet for a year and a half now, and with Rory being the headliner, we knew people were going to show up, so that was exciting. It ended up being a very special environment, because we had spent so much time figuring out what works and what doesn't in terms of setup, so it was just such a fun night."
Though he now performs regularly and produces two ongoing comedy nights — one at the Corner Beet on the second Wednesday of each month and another at the Thin Man two Thursdays a month — Ergo's path to promoter was not straightforward. A 2015 graduate of the University of Colorado Boulder with a degree in communication, technology arts and media studies, Ergo began doing improv while in school. “Then, after I graduated, I started doing a lot of sketch comedy but dabbled in comedy; I’d go to open mics to stand up just here and there," Ergo says.
His first foray into producing shows came in 2018, when he began hosting house shows in his Capitol Hill residence. “We called them Standup and Dance, and they were variety shows with sketch, improv, standup and music,” Ergo says. "It was kind of wild how quickly it escalated. It started with twenty to thirty people, and the next one had forty people. By the third show, we had about ninety people jammed into this house."
Although he shifted his focus to his own standup comedy for a time, his passion for creating spaces where comedy could thrive soon re-emerged. "In late 2021, early 2022, I began putting on shows again, but this time in venues around Denver," he says. "I feel a great deal of responsibility to the Corner Beet because they gave me the opportunity to start running shows there. The deal that we created was that as long as I bring people here to eat and drink, they'll shut down during regular dinner service for our shows."
Producing midweek comedy shows was a calculated decision for Ergo. “I emphasize trying to have the best lineups possible, which I can do because it's during the week," he says. "Headliners might be out of town for the weekend or club shows on the weekend, but they're usually available on Wednesday or Thursday."
Unlike at the iconic Comedy Works, where the energy of a large audience frequently fuels the performance, Ergo's shows thrive in small spaces. “Comedy Works is incredible, and the energy there is unbeatable, but performing in a small room is a completely different challenge,” Ergo says. “In a space like the Corner Beet or Thin Man, you’re looking people in the eye. You can’t just motor through material — you have to be present and respond to the room. At Comedy Works, sometimes it's like you're just telling your jokes into the void. But with a small group of people, you really get to connect with them."
Ergo's shows are carefully structured to complement their settings. A Very Kuhl Showcase has evolved into a monthly event focused on bringing headlining talent to Denver. “We used to do it showcase-style, with five comics sharing equal time,” Ergo recalls. “But switching to a headliner format has allowed us to draw bigger names like Rory Scovel while still giving stage time to some of Denver’s best local talent.”
The biweekly show in the Thin Man’s basement Ubisububi Room has a different vibe. With six comics doing ten-minute sets, the Ubisububi Underworld offers variety while maintaining a fast-paced, high-energy flow. “It’s more punk rock,” Ergo says. “Thin Man is a cheap, consistent twice-a-month show with mostly local comics. It’s great for audiences, and an awesome room for comics to test out new material; we’re creating another opportunity to get on stage."
Producing these shows has taught Ergo valuable lessons — not just about comedy, but also about building a community. “One thing I learned from those early house shows was how powerful word of mouth is,” he says. From texting personal invites to engaging with audiences after the show, he focuses on making every attendee feel valued. “People appreciate that connection, and it keeps them coming back,” he adds.
As Ergo looks ahead, his goals are both practical and aspirational. Since he has a job as an inside sales manager at Mālama Mushrooms, his income isn't dependent on comedy. "However," he admits, "I would like to get it to a point where I'm just like, ‘Okay, that was worth it. I made this percentage of the ticket revenue, I got paid for my time and everybody had a good time.' To be honest, up until recently, I was losing money or breaking even at Corner Beet, which is kind of a weird feeling. We would have thirty people here for a really fun show, but I would still lose money somehow. Right now I'm just focused on getting the comics paid, making a little bit of money and ensuring that the venues feel like it's worth it for them."
Ergo sees his producer role as part of a larger mission to strengthen Denver’s comedy scene. “We need a big comedy club for comics to go, but we also need these smaller, independent shows for people to refine stuff," he says. "As the producer, you want to look out for the local scene and give people chances accordingly, but my biggest responsibility is making sure that the show is awesome so that people come back."
By striking a balance between quality and opportunity, Ergo hopes to continue adding to Denver’s reputation as a comedy hub. And if the packed room at A Very Kuhl Showcase is any indication, his hard work is paying off, one laugh at a time.
A Very Kuhl Showcase, the Corner Beet, 1401 Ogden Street, Wednesday, January 8, and every second Wednesday of the month, and Ubisububi Underworld at the Thin Man, 2015 East 17th Avenue, every other Thursday.
The show opens with producer and host Ryan Ergo, who warms up the room with a sharp, self-aware set. Most of his jokes, whose subjects range from his parents’ divorce to youth pastors declaring babies sinners, land with precision. But when a riff on megachurches falls flat, Ergo doesn't miss a beat: “I’m not surprised that megachurch reference at a vegetarian cafe didn’t work,” he quips, quickly winning back the audience and setting the stage for the night ahead.
Gabby Gutierrez-Reed follows, sharing stories about her life as a bisexual Mexican barista. Though she struggles to connect with her early jokes, she finds her stride when she engages an audience member who'd reacted a little too loudly to jokes about "strippers" and discovers he's the director of a nonprofit. That exchange is comedic gold, prompting callbacks from other comedians, who dub him "the nonprofit stripper guy."
Next, Geoff Tice delivers a polished, crowd-pleasing set filled with razor-sharp observations and personal anecdotes. From fast-food rivalries like Popeye’s versus Chick-fil-A to navigating parenting and generational divides on TikTok, Tice keeps the laughter rolling with a confident, natural rhythm.
Then comes Scovel, with his signature mix of improvisation and daring material. He opens by riffing on the Corner Beet’s eclectic decor, then launches into a story about his recent vasectomy, complete with awkward encounters involving an overly attractive nurse. Finally, he pulls out his notebook to test experimental jokes about Jeffrey Epstein, politics and conspiracy theories that meet with wild approval.
Rory Scovel, Ryan Ergo, Gabby Gutierrez-Reed and Geoff Tice pose inside the Corner Beet during a December comedy show.
Courtesy of Kenny Thompson
For Ergo, that sold-out evening was the culmination of over a year of hard work honing a unique comedy night. "The evening with Rory felt awesome," he recalls. "We've been doing that show at the Corner Beet for a year and a half now, and with Rory being the headliner, we knew people were going to show up, so that was exciting. It ended up being a very special environment, because we had spent so much time figuring out what works and what doesn't in terms of setup, so it was just such a fun night."
Though he now performs regularly and produces two ongoing comedy nights — one at the Corner Beet on the second Wednesday of each month and another at the Thin Man two Thursdays a month — Ergo's path to promoter was not straightforward. A 2015 graduate of the University of Colorado Boulder with a degree in communication, technology arts and media studies, Ergo began doing improv while in school. “Then, after I graduated, I started doing a lot of sketch comedy but dabbled in comedy; I’d go to open mics to stand up just here and there," Ergo says.
His first foray into producing shows came in 2018, when he began hosting house shows in his Capitol Hill residence. “We called them Standup and Dance, and they were variety shows with sketch, improv, standup and music,” Ergo says. "It was kind of wild how quickly it escalated. It started with twenty to thirty people, and the next one had forty people. By the third show, we had about ninety people jammed into this house."
Although he shifted his focus to his own standup comedy for a time, his passion for creating spaces where comedy could thrive soon re-emerged. "In late 2021, early 2022, I began putting on shows again, but this time in venues around Denver," he says. "I feel a great deal of responsibility to the Corner Beet because they gave me the opportunity to start running shows there. The deal that we created was that as long as I bring people here to eat and drink, they'll shut down during regular dinner service for our shows."
Producing midweek comedy shows was a calculated decision for Ergo. “I emphasize trying to have the best lineups possible, which I can do because it's during the week," he says. "Headliners might be out of town for the weekend or club shows on the weekend, but they're usually available on Wednesday or Thursday."
Unlike at the iconic Comedy Works, where the energy of a large audience frequently fuels the performance, Ergo's shows thrive in small spaces. “Comedy Works is incredible, and the energy there is unbeatable, but performing in a small room is a completely different challenge,” Ergo says. “In a space like the Corner Beet or Thin Man, you’re looking people in the eye. You can’t just motor through material — you have to be present and respond to the room. At Comedy Works, sometimes it's like you're just telling your jokes into the void. But with a small group of people, you really get to connect with them."
Ryan Ergo's biweekly comedy show, the Ubisububi Underworld, takes place in the Thin Man's small basement space downstairs.
Courtesy of Jeff Stonic
The biweekly show in the Thin Man’s basement Ubisububi Room has a different vibe. With six comics doing ten-minute sets, the Ubisububi Underworld offers variety while maintaining a fast-paced, high-energy flow. “It’s more punk rock,” Ergo says. “Thin Man is a cheap, consistent twice-a-month show with mostly local comics. It’s great for audiences, and an awesome room for comics to test out new material; we’re creating another opportunity to get on stage."
Producing these shows has taught Ergo valuable lessons — not just about comedy, but also about building a community. “One thing I learned from those early house shows was how powerful word of mouth is,” he says. From texting personal invites to engaging with audiences after the show, he focuses on making every attendee feel valued. “People appreciate that connection, and it keeps them coming back,” he adds.
As Ergo looks ahead, his goals are both practical and aspirational. Since he has a job as an inside sales manager at Mālama Mushrooms, his income isn't dependent on comedy. "However," he admits, "I would like to get it to a point where I'm just like, ‘Okay, that was worth it. I made this percentage of the ticket revenue, I got paid for my time and everybody had a good time.' To be honest, up until recently, I was losing money or breaking even at Corner Beet, which is kind of a weird feeling. We would have thirty people here for a really fun show, but I would still lose money somehow. Right now I'm just focused on getting the comics paid, making a little bit of money and ensuring that the venues feel like it's worth it for them."
Ergo sees his producer role as part of a larger mission to strengthen Denver’s comedy scene. “We need a big comedy club for comics to go, but we also need these smaller, independent shows for people to refine stuff," he says. "As the producer, you want to look out for the local scene and give people chances accordingly, but my biggest responsibility is making sure that the show is awesome so that people come back."
By striking a balance between quality and opportunity, Ergo hopes to continue adding to Denver’s reputation as a comedy hub. And if the packed room at A Very Kuhl Showcase is any indication, his hard work is paying off, one laugh at a time.
A Very Kuhl Showcase, the Corner Beet, 1401 Ogden Street, Wednesday, January 8, and every second Wednesday of the month, and Ubisububi Underworld at the Thin Man, 2015 East 17th Avenue, every other Thursday.
