It was the first of times, it was the worst of times. This week we welcome the fine comic and fowl enthusiast Rob Rouse, who's got a new clubnight running in various scenic locations: the Comedy Village.

"Having moved up to the Peak District in 2010 for a change of pace and for our kids to get to spend more time with their grandparents I was thrilled to find such a thriving comedy circuit from Birmingham upwards," Rouse recalls. "I'd always worked all over the country, but at that point hadn't worked for a lot of the regional promoters running lovely gigs up here. There's a really thriving scene to be fair, all over the country, away from the big clubs and city centres."

You might assume that the long-serving Rouse would have run loads of gigs before. Actually he'd been put off "by the thought of 'don't poop where you eat' every time I'd considered it. Then one day I got strongarmed into putting on a one-off night for the local primary school as a fundraiser by a particularly persuasive head teacher, Mrs Gemmel.

"I suppose like most grown-ups at the school gates, one of my main aims whilst collecting my kids and arranging playdates etc is to try to give the impression of NOT being an utter lunatic, but at the same time it's impossible for me to perform onstage and be the ideal model citizen. I got pretty nervous before that first night, much more than I do at larger higher-profile things, because I felt completely exposed and open to scrutiny. It turned into a pretty crazy and funny night for everyone, I completely let myself unravel and now they know exactly who I am!"

That developed into a regular night, and the various Comedy Villages have now featured everyone from Russell Kane and Daliso Chaponda to Ed Byrne and Barbara Nice - more on that below. The next two are next week at the lovely-sounding Baslow Village Hall and Eyam Mechanics, which we're assured is a venue rather than a touring car team.

Speaking of touring, Rouse is planning to next year, and "I'd also like to tour my Late Night Dirty Scrabble show, where we play scrabble for rude words, and if you don't have a rude word you have to make your word rude. It's a riot and seems to attract a delightful mix of filth-mongers and lexicography buffs. And when they get together it's like an orgy at Countdown."

Meanwhile he also runs The Unlikely Weightlifters Podcast, with Tom Wrigglesworth - because Rob's back is a bit brittle "and Tom took an NHS online BMI test and found out he was medically emaciated! We set about trying to get a bit stronger: the podcast only contains 1% weightlifting, tops, and is an excuse to laugh with Tom every week while we get our breath back. It's about friendship basically."

And who wouldn't want to befriend Mr Wrigglesworth? But now, let's recall Rouse steeling himself in the steel city.

First gig?

The Fox and Duck Pub in Sheffield. Back room, charity gig. Vomited beforehand and loved every second of it (the gig, not the vomiting). None of the other performers from the night are still doing it. I'm the sole survivor. The second gig was a disaster, but I knew immediately afterwards I'd found my calling.

Favourite show, ever?

It's a tough one because, after 25 years, there's so many things my brain has forgotten. The rush of, for example, supporting Trevor Noah at the O2 in front of 16,500 people can also happen, and be just as intense at Heaton's Sports Club on a Sunday night, when you're improvising a musical with the Heatons' WI group for the whole show. Every gig can be a life-changing surprise if the wind's blowing in the right direction.

Worst gig?

Jongleurs Portsmouth, it was where ALL comedy went to die, crushed like a Black Hole. I remember hearing horror stories about it long before I ever played it and thinking, how bad can a gig be?

The bill was strong - all acts I'd worked with before, all over the circuit, from the Edinburgh Festival to Up The Creek in Greenwich - and one at a time we all died like mosquitoes being electrocuted above a butchers' counter.

It was like performing in an aircraft hanger thrumming with an impenetrable noise, the hubbub in your ears louder than the sound of your own voice through the PA system.

In fairness, I've had worse, more visceral experiences onstage, but I think it was just the existential bleakness, the futility of even turning up that felt so weird.

The next day, and I'm ashamed to admit it, I called the booker from my toilet to explain that my bowels were so upset, I couldn't possibly drive back down there as I couldn't be more than two minutes away from a toilet. I went with the 'too much information' approach (backed up by the echo of the bathroom) and as I continued my torrid tale she eventually put me out of my misery and hoped I felt better soon.

Every time I've seen her since over the years (it's quite a small business) I've felt a residual guilt about it. So I suppose this is an apology to her more than anything.

Which one person influenced your comedy life most significantly?

Vic & Bob. I remember watching a little portable telly in the quiet little village I grew up in, about 14, 15, perhaps and between the shows on Channel 4 this fella popped up wearing a white suit with a slicked back quiff and said "Watch Vic Reeves' Big Night Out, with me Vic Reeves, Friday night at 9 o'clock" and something inside me just went "I'm in".

Over the years I've watched, listened to and read every incarnation of their brilliance. The sheer volume of ludicrous ideas they've produced defies belief. They're true originals and their commitment to the daft, surreal and balls-to-the-wall joy has been a constant in my life and a real inspiration.

From a fan's point of view, the older they've got, the funnier it all becomes. I love Vic/Jim's art, and Bob's fishing exploits with Paul Whitehouse have been some of the most delightful television for years. Bob and Andy Dawson's Athletico Mince podcast has caused me to let out a bit of wee in the car on more than one occasion. The amount Bob writes for every episode is insane.

Me and my wife went to their 25 year anniversary tour and I bought a signed 5L bottle of Halfords' screenwash from the merch store for £5. On the way home we looked online and in Halfords they cost £5.99.

Just superb!

A world without Vic & Bob to me is an unimaginable one.

And who's the most disagreeable person you've come across in the business?

We had a pair of ducks who kept trying to get into our new Baslow Village Hall gig the other week. Couple of absolute pricks.

Is there one routine/gag you loved, that audiences inexplicably didn't?

Stuff bombs all the time; that's creativity isn't it, stumbling and fixing things? But if it consistently doesn't work or you can't fix it and you don't let it go, there's no space for a better idea to pop up. So you have to bin it.

Best bits of your new nights, so far?

Over the last few years we've brought all sorts of brilliant acts to the Comedy Village, from straight stand-up to more avant-garde performers. One incredible evening, Barbara Nice slid down the steps at Eyam Mechanics on a tea tray in what was one of the most incendiary rock and roll happenings I've ever witnessed. All of it in these quiet little villages!

I'm the resident host and I love the fact that so many of the crowd can walk there and back. We're using these brilliant old village halls, and the local babysitting teenagers get a cash injection. Last month one of our shows started late after a surprise diary clash with the Brownies, who to be fair to them could have earned their 'putting the chairs out in a proper hurry for the comedy club' badge. Once the chairs were set and the lights went down Brown Owl took her seat in the crowd and I took to the stage dressed as the Angel of the North.

I love doing these gigs. In February, Ed Byrne headlined the shows and the next morning, in the same room, the old ladies were doing Zumba like nothing had ever happened.

Have you run clubnights before this? Any tips for aspiring promoters?

Last time before this was The Torrington Arms in Finchley in 1999, with my sketch pals Jon and Ian. We used to gather the drunks from the pub to watch our free-in nights and we'd stage 'Meat Wars' where me and Jon would beat each other to submission with raw chickens.

My tips to aspiring promoters would be as follows:

1. Don't let drunks into your comedy shows for free.

2. Working with raw chicken is hazardous and can lead to the runs.

Any reviews, heckles or post-gig reactions stick in the mind?

"I think some of that chicken juice went in my mouth!"

How do you feel about where your career is at, right now?

I feel simultaneously more creative than ever, whilst less bothered than ever about whatever 'making it' might be, it's a delightfully liberating mix. I'll just keep making things and see what happens.

For future shows visit wegottickets.com and search for The Comedy Village - Baslow, Bamford or Eyam.