He thinks he has found the woman of his dreams, but before he can find true love, there are mountains to climb. His court-mandated psychiatrist self-medicates, and his flatmate, Frank, bristles with animosity and spite. It could be a mistake to mention the talking blue tiger called Sean. Yet, Jenny doesn’t seem to care about these things; she’s a potty-mouthed princess come to sweep him off his feet. Things should feel wonderful, but dark clouds are gathering, and his nemesis is creeping into his nightmares. He’d take a long hard look at himself if only the mirrors would stop reflecting the truth. Can he ever find happiness? Does Jenny even care? Will Dr MacNeill stop smoking weed? This is Glasgow, and this is not a love story.