Bedecked in black, and wearing a pair of kneehigh ladies boots, Bissett returns to the Fringe with his cuttingly accurate but affectionate swipe at the people of Falkirk.
Through the eyes and recollections of the titular Moira, we are treated to a series of vignettes as she pulls endlessly at a cigarette and laughs with her best friend, Babs.
The stories range from the surreal to the sordid and usually involve drinking, foul language and a lot of twitching curtains. Whether the single mother is arguing with her neighbours or trying to pull the local English teacher into some sort of romantic encounter, it's equally funny, painful and endearing.
Bissett is well known for his observational abilities and, in The Moira Monologues, he brings all of it to bear, alongside a practiced ease on stage and a welcoming manner that makes this show a joy to watch, and the appeal of the follow-up production only seem the greater.
Moira may seem rough at first, but she's well worth a look.