For decades, standard media portrayals of disability have tended to swing between two tired extremes: tragic inspiration or object of pity. But on comedy club stages across Minnesota, a local troupe is shattering those tropes with self-deprecating humor and zero interest in being anyone’s inspiration.

They call themselves The Disableds, and their mission is simple: deliver high-caliber stand-up comedy that reflects their unfiltered lived realities.

“We’re not a group of disabled people trying to do comedy,” says founder and veteran comic Brian Bretzman. “We’re a bunch of comedians who just happen to be disabled.”

The spark behind the mic

Bretzman’s journey in comedy began in 1998. After starting out in radio broadcasting in greater Minnesota, a promotional fax announcing a comedy contest at the Mall of America caught his eye. The grand prize was a trip to the prestigious Aspen Comedy Festival. Bretzman took his shot and won the competition. Soon he discovered he had a natural rhythm on stage and relocated to Boston, a booming hub for stand-up.

Bretzman has faced significant health challenges. He has had roughly a dozen surgeries, fought cancer during the pandemic, and still lives life with severe agoraphobia, autophobia, and panic disorder. Leaving the house for daily errands can feel like an insurmountable mountain for Bretzman, but comedy offers an unexpected sanctuary.

“My brain works in the complete opposite way of most people,” Bretzman explains. “I can barely go to the grocery store by myself, but the one place where my anxiety completely switches off is when I step on stage. It’s an outlet.”

While performing at open mics around the Twin Cities, Bretzman noticed a lot of talented comedians with disabilities in the Twin Cities. Seeing an opportunity to build community and showcase diverse comedic styles, he started a Facebook group chat in late 2025 with an invitation to join forces. The response was an immediate, unanimous yes.

A powerhouse ensemble

The Disableds don’t have a traditional headliner, instead they showcase their troupe as an ensemble of equals. Bretzman serves as the host and emcee, keeping the energy brisk and bantering between sets. Each performer takes the stage for an equal share of the spotlight.

The core roster brings a wide spectrum of experiences and comedic styles:

• Matt “Eagle Eyes” Higgins, who lost his vision at age 30 due to a hereditary condition, disarms audiences immediately with dry, observational self-awareness (“My name is Matt: two T’s, no eyes”).
• Dakota Forness, a wheelchair user living with cerebral palsy, brings razor-sharp delivery and crowd-pleasing punchlines, opening sets by declaring himself an aspiring model who took his headshots by the blue accessibility signs in parking lots.
• Sam Bondhus, a deaf comic, uses physical comedy, expressive timing, and visual humor—including a spot-on deaf Donald Trump impression—to bridge the hearing and non-hearing worlds.
• Raymond Joseph, who has Apert syndrome (a rare genetic condition affecting cranial and limb development), uses storytelling to normalize physical differences with charm and self-awareness.
• Whitney Haverstock, whose sets delve into navigating bipolar II disorder, PTSD, and growing up as a ward of the state, brings an honest, darkly comedic edge.
• Brian Bretzman, who weaves his struggles with mental illness, medical procedures, and agoraphobia into punchy crowd work and hosting.

Redefining accessibility in comedy

One of the group’s most notable impacts has been transforming who feels welcome in the comedy audience. Comedy venues have historically posed steep accessibility hurdles, but shows by The Disableds have become a rallying point for the disability community. Audiences regularly include wheelchair users, individuals with guide dogs, and large contingents from the local deaf community.

To ensure true inclusion, the troop regularly hires American Sign Language (ASL) interpreters for their larger shows—a rarity in traditional stand-up spaces.

“Deaf people often don’t go to comedy shows because they can’t access what’s happening,” Bretzman notes. “When we bring in an interpreter and have 15 or 20 deaf audience members laughing along with us, it’s an incredible feeling.”

The humor also serves as a bridge for non-disabled attendees. Audiences unfamiliar with disability humor often start out hesitant, unsure of whether it is socially acceptable to laugh. But the troupe’s unapologetic candor quickly puts crowds at ease.

“We make fun of ourselves and each other,” Bretzman says. “Once people realize we’re all in on the joke together, the room opens up.”

Taking the act on the road

The group’s momentum is building quickly. Members Raymond Joseph and Sam Bondhus recently took second and third place, respectively, at a local House of Comedy competition, affirming the troupe’s comedic chops.

Though Bretzman currently self-funds operations through ticket revenue and merchandise sales—featuring a logo depicting a wheelchair holding a microphone on fire—the troupe is setting its sights beyond the Twin Cities metro. Following recent stops in Mankato, the team has booked shows in Greater Minnesota, including renting accessible transport to perform in Rochester with their sign language interpreter in tow.

For The Disableds, the stage is more than a platform for laughs; it is a space of visibility, mutual support, and undeniable craft. As Bretzman puts it: “We’re out here doing what we love, filling rooms, and showing people what disabled artists are capable of.”