TAKE a failing hairdressers being transformed into a piercing parlour, a Widow Twankey of a cleaner with bleach coursing through her veins and a tattooing specialist as camp as a row of tents… most of us would agree that here was a scenario with definite comic potential.

And yet there’s more. For what turns House of Pain into a veritable masterpiece is the Midas touch of Lichfield bard Phil Preece, who is rapidly consolidating his growing reputation as a connoisseur of fast-paced observational humour.

For the gags come thicker than Elton John’s hair-weave, the influences ranging from classic music hall innuendo to Whitehall farce and all points in between. Yes, this play soon becomes a rollercoaster that not even a tsunami of spilled mousse can impede.

Gay piercing artist Sean is played with great verve by Paulo Allen, who soon demonstrates that he is completely at ease with the exacting art of comic timing. Much hinges on this role and he never once fails to deliver.

Della Allen as Brenda is surely determined not to be outdone, although she might prefer to be undone by her boss, the superbly stressed Frank Turner, a character who is entirely believable thanks to a deft portrayal as a northern businessman down to his uppers by Alan Wales.

Meanwhile, Katie Leeming devotes her undoubted talents to a variety of parts ranging from a sulky chav shop assistant to an old woman in need of a quick perm.

However, the biggest laughs were reserved for Keith Minshull’s redoubtable Mrs Spatchcock, a battleship of a cleaning lady who makes it quite clear that unloveliness as well as cleanliness is surely next to godliness.

This barnstormer of a piece was an absolute triumph for the Opus Theatre Company, which has taken Preece’s work and sprinkled it with gold dust. And as far as the author himself… well, he comes from Doctor Johnson’s town.

Say no more.