Plenty of productions can boast such a strong team, of course. But it is rare to find a play which works as well as Des Dillon's story of six sisters who set out, with their Ma and Grandma, to avenge the infidelity of the eldest sister's husband. The eldest is Caroline. Having bought her council house in a decrepit 60s Coatbridge block, her husband Bobby has done a runner with the babysitter, Stacie Gracie. And if Caroline can't find ten grand by tomorrow, the flat will be repossessed. Enter seven witches. Or the next best thing, if Caroline's five sisters, mother and pointedly Catholic grandmother are not, technically, a coven. Accompanied, as they would need to be, by an extra bottle of vodka, a few cans of lager, a plentiful supply of fags and a couple of packets of biscuits. Exit, into Caroline's stupendously inappropriate fireplace, many pairs of Bobby's underwear. Each for a member of the number as they arrive. Up to and including Father Boyle, new to the parish, whose entrance disturbs the main object of the gathering: to hex Stacie Gracie's frozen head. Wielding a cast of cantankerous, outspoken and spiteful siblings is never going to be easy for either playwright or director. The lines need to come hurtling out with such speed that they are realistic, but equally with such good delivery that you don't mind missing a punchline - another will be along in a minute. Des Dillon's script doesn't disappoint. And if it never lets up in its delivery, it is also naturally paced so that the action ebbs and flows, giving each sister time to establish themselves with all sorts of sub-plots and intricacies of character coming to the surface, while the actual plot arrives at a satisfying conclusion.