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Courtesy of Hailey Boyle

Courtesy EJay Buoncore

Many people would prefer standing in the path of a herd of migrating caribou to standing onstage in front of a paying crowd hungry for comedy.

Even those who seek out the stage time and again admit it can be punishing.

“Doing it is like being stuck in an abusive relationship,” said homegrown Fairbanks comedian EJay Buoncore. “It’s that redneck girl that loves her country boyfriend. You always see her with a black eye, but she won’t give up.”

Buoncore, along with Fairbanks-trained comedian Hailey Boyle, will face the exposing spotlight once again Saturday at Barracuda’s Beach Bar on Airport Way. The two will headline a show that promises piles of self-deprecation, “stand-up tragedy” and maybe a few more redneck cracks. Michelle Peterson, another local comic, will host the show.

The comedians got their start at the Fairbanks Funny Fest, an annual winter comedy workshop started almost a decade ago that brings together a popular comedian and about a dozen local hopefuls looking to hone their humor. The two budding comedians pursued separate careers in the funny biz and after a few years of touring, successes and bombs, they are back headlining in front of the audience that first molded them.

Fairbanks may have more conservative crowds than New York City, the comedians said, but its audiences also tend to be more laid-back and forgiving. Plus, Alaska ties have given these two natural goofballs much fodder for their routines.

“They eat it up” in New York City, said Boyle. “They come up to me after the show and want to know everyting about Alaska, like do people really live in igloos?”

Boyle, a New York native, graduated from the University of Alaska Fairbanks and then from the Funny Fest in 2004. Bit by the comedy bug, she moved back down to Manhattan, home to thousands of comedians compared to some 20 in Fairbanks, she said. Living at the epicenter of the industry, she found herself in clubs with the likes of Jerry Seinfeld and touring with well-known comedian Lynne Koplitz.

“It’s comedy boot camp,” she said. “If you have to follow Robin Williams on a checkspot, you’re going to get a lot funnier a lot faster just to stay alive.”

While Boyle scores many laughs by making fun of herself, Buoncore called his routine “stand-up tragedy,” a sad-but-funny brand of humor that embraces the awkwardness of everyday situations. One joke, for example, focuses on tourists who believe conceiving a child under the Northern Lights brings good luck.

“I’m at Chena Hot Springs, and I want to relax, and people are actually doing their business,” Buoncore joked.

While Buoncore shoots for laughs, the occasional brutal silence of a flopped punchline is unavoidable.

“One night I’ll kill it and be on top of the world. The next night I’ll completely just crash,” he said.

Nearly every joke has to bomb before it gets good, he said. So Buoncore tries to perform at as many shows, bars and open-mic nights in Alaska as he can.

“I’ve gone to the Marlin when there’s a bartender and some guy passed out in the corner and I just go, ‘Let’s see if this works.’”

Buoncore and Boyle have performed together before, and they are both hoping to entertain a big crowd at Barracuda’s. Are they nervous?

“I hope all this suffering and rejection will get me somewhere,” Buoncore said.

Boyle has her own special remedy for nerves.

“I don’t have any kind of stagefright,” she said. “It’s called whiskey.”