On paper, this sounds as bloke-friendly as a lone, used tampon floating in a communal loo. It’s full of things that, like tampons, men are supposed to be able to deal with, and in reality can’t and don’t: ex-girlfriends, possible pregnancies, and earnest feminist gabble like "Jack’s come out of the whole thing rather heroically; men invariably do." Even the title ingeniously sandwiches together the twin nightmares of hairstyling and a posse of slags wearing pink cowboy hats.

It’s better than that. Judith (Tilda Stickley) leaves her ex-boyfriend a message, threatening to kill herself. But – gasp – it’s not Jack who comes to her aid: it’s Jack’s new girlfriend, Ros. Proving the long-untested theory that there is comedy to be found in chronic, suicidal depression.

It’s never a good thing when a reviewer says things go downhill when the actors start talking. I felt sorry for Nicola Pollard as Ros, looking on as Judith gets most of the good lines: she was clearly suffering from some respiratory malady that meant she ran out of oomph during her longer speeches.

To be fair, however, not even a gallon of Tixylix could’ve solved the problems posed by her body language. The play is already asking for a pretty major suspension of disbelief among its audience, leaving just fifty minutes to chart the change from loathing to camaraderie. Three cheers, then, for Stickley. It feels harsh to single one person out of a two-woman cast for praise, but she was undeniably strong and, vitally, believable as Judith, managing both the catty sarcasm with which she initially meets Ros and the emotional openness as her hostility melts.

Hendry’s production is well-rehearsed, but wondered if it could ever be brilliant. It’s clumsily written: the pivotal scene in which Ros wins Judith’s respect by washing her hair nearly had me running out the auditorium with a handful of sick. I also found it funny, spirited, and oddly affecting. As for its faults, I don’t know whether to point the finger of blame at the writing or acting. I’ll just encourage you to make up your own mind, and maybe to remember to flush next time, yeah?