Barney has never had the knack of talking drivel to complete strangers, and it irks him. Certainly, he can talk about the weather with the best of them, but when it comes to uncompromising, asinine bollocks, he just doesn't have it . . .
Barney Thomson's success as a barber is limited. It's not just that he's crap at cutting hair (and he is); it's because he has no blather. He hates football for one thing. He hates most people. He hates his colleagues most of all, and the glib confidence with which they can discuss Florence Nightingale's sexuality or the ongoing plight of Partick Thistle.
But a serial killer is spreading terror throughout the city. The police are baffled. And for one sad little Glasgow barber, life is about to get seriously strange . . .
