He shagged his old accountant woman to pay fees. He was having problems paying his accountant’s fees as his tax bill was higher than expected. They came to an arrangement where he would have sex with her to pay for her financial services. He never admitted how old she was, but I am guessing from his description of her that she was between 70-80 years old. He Had a secret love nest in Clacton. Just a filthy mattress on the floor of a filthy bedsit. Arnold - Made the Arnold Pisstanga video with Ginger Maderios in 1988. He got so drunk making it as he drank a whole bottle of disgusting tasting banana liquor as the cameras rolled. He wanted to find a woman that would do anything. Found her in a forum contact magazine. She shagged her Alsatian dog on the canal barge she lived in. He did all sorts of depraved things to her. He found a sweetcorn husk under his foreskin after anal sex with her. He said he couldn’t face eating sweetcorn for years afterwards. Hand cannon – held together at first with tape then metal brackets. When he fired it, the barrel blew backwards into his hand. “help me find my thumb” he shouted afterwards. We took him to Clacton hospital. He was still finding splinters in his hand months later. Fired a 9mm garden gun with real cartridges. Showed a friend a 9mm browning pistol whilst sat on his bed. Accidentally fired gun. Bullet went straight through bed and floorboards into lounge skirting board below. Neighbour complained, Soz told him it was fireworks. Down the dump – He told us that he’d get into a large fridge freezer (See video clip) we found there so we could fire our shotguns at it with him inside as he wanted to find out what it felt like with the rounds hitting the side. Good job he didn’t as the solid slugs went straight through both sides like a knife through butter. reliant robin engine block was also blasted. He managed to wing a seagull that fell to the ground. He held it up with one hand, pump action in the other and said, “sorry mate” and blasted it to death. Wedding to Sue – Sue was about seven months pregnant, but her mother had made her dress about three months before. We had to stop on way back to Clacton WHSmith in pier avenue to get birthday card for his sister, whilst his beautiful new bride was left waiting in the car. Went back to Sue’s mother’s house in the evening. Everyone turned-up with wedding presents (most of the presents were nappies). Soz ate all the smoked salmon- threw-up in kitchen sink- orange fountain. Her mother threw everyone out of the house in disgust. He was found the next day on the roundabout next to Clacton fire station; bare-chested with a bottle of champagne in each hand, singing ‘I’m getting married in the morning’ The Rats - Soz kept two white rats in an old fish tank in his bedsit on Wellesley Road. One evening, out of boredom, he decided it would be fun to give them a drink of vodka. He poured the vodka into a coffee jar lid, and the two rodents lapped it all up. They became so drunk that they were unconscious for about two days. This was likely the equivalent of two humans drinking a paddling pool full of the substance. They must have had quite a hangover. He also fed them a 35mm film canister full of his own seminal fluid. The two rats seemed to really enjoy it, as they fought over it while lapping it up. As time went on, the two rats, now alcoholics, began to die of old age, so Soz had to devise a plan to euthanize them. He decided the most humane way to end their lives was to gas them to death in a SodaStream. I don’t know what he did with their bodies, but I wouldn’t be surprised if he tossed them in the bin or threw them onto the street below. The Ferrets - He Slept with two ferrets down his long-johns in the winter as he was so cold. In the end they died as he forgot about them in the garden one very cold winter. He took them out and they were frozen solid. Picked them up and smashed then on the side of their hutch like drumsticks. I went over to visit him in Jaywick one afternoon to discover that he and Sue had been having one hell of an argument as he’d smashed most of the windows in the house and put his fists through most of the plasterboard walls. Poverty pizzas and chicken soup - When Soz was hard-up, these were two of his money saving meals. Pizza recipe: Plain flour and water for the base. Savers tomato ketchup and a small handful of the cheapest Kwiksave cheddar cheese for the topping, put in oven for 20 minutes. Chicken soup recipe: boil a chicken carcase for an hour, sieve out the bits, add salt and pepper to taste and serve with stale bread. He towed an oversized caravan down to Plymouth from Essex to live in whilst he did his diving course. It was so big that it was illegal to tow on the road, but he used his XR3i to somehow get it down there. Almost burnt the clutch out on numerous occasions trying to get up steep hills. XR3i down telegraph hill. Forgot it was in neutral, the car stalled, and he didn’t realise, went to brake at the bottom of the hill and rolled it into a ditch. He called a friend in Plymouth to help him tow it back before the cops turned up. When they eventually got it back they dumped it in Plymouth harbour. Kept accidently knocking down my parent’s garden wall when he came to visit. In the end he had building materials in boot of his Alfa Romeo GTV ready to fix it. XR3i - After finishing repairing the front wing in garage, went to get fish and chips in Walton. skidded on the bend of a wet road, straight into lamppost and smashed the very wing he’d just finished spraying. Kid came running over “is this a piece of your car mate” Soz told him to fuck off. Cowboy boots – Saw his mate drive past him in his Opel Manta in Pier Avenue Clacton. Soz grabbed the open window of the car and his mate sped-off carrying Soz with him who was sliding along the road in thick clouds of smoke on the heels of his cowboy boots. He later showed me the boots under his bed. The heals had almost completely burnt off. When he was working at the diving centre in Plymouth, he was in charge of a diving demonstration for an open day there. The local mayor and the press turned-up. Soz dressed the mayor in a dry suit and diving helmet and lowered him to a big vat of water. He them pumped hot water into the suit to demonstrate how they keep divers warm in cold conditions. Soz got the temperature wrong and when he winched the mayor back up, he looked like a cooked lobster. Harbour cannon – Soz was left in charge of repairing a stilted structure in Plymouth Harbour. When he took a boat over to inspect it, he climbed up the structure carrying a pump-action shotgun and blasted out all the doors and windows for fun. About a week later, he returned with his boss—who was horrified by the extensive damage. Soz hadn’t realised the structure was a listed building and needed to be preserved in good condition. Later, while diving in the harbour, he discovered some unexploded World War II shells. Inspired, he decided to build his own cannon: he fashioned a barrel from steel tubing and welded it to the railings of the harbour structure. He loaded a shell into the cannon and used a blowtorch positioned at the breech to ignite it. The device exploded with a tremendous blast. Soz claimed he heard the shell ricochet off the hull of a naval frigate moored on the opposite side of the harbour. He made a swift getaway back to the mainland before anyone spotted him. Lift in and old people’s care home in Wellesley road Clacton that he and another guy were renovating. Guy he was working with almost fell with it as Soz cut through the cables at the top and didn’t realise that the lift would fall. Sue had a baby they named Dale. Soz had an argument with the nurses and got chucked out of hospital. He climbed back in through the window to visit her. The day Sue was discharged from the hospital with their new baby, Soz made her cook him a Sunday lunch. He took home afterbirth from hospital in carrier bag and put it in the freezer. In the end sue made him take it out and bury it in the garden. The cat dug it up and ate it. Gave Dale (his son) a bottle of Holsten Pils and a large bag of hot tortilla chips when he was about 18 months old. Said it would make a man of him. He projectile vomited all over the carpet. The child also kept eating all the cat food. They found it smeared all over his face. He got a job working on a building site. Bought himself a new large carpentry bag. He padded it all out with newspaper to make it look full as he didn’t have enough tools to fill it. Had to take his Alfa to a filling station in Clacton as he had a puncture. Tried to fil air in tyre but the jack went straight through the underneath of the car as it was so rotten. We had to drive back to Jaywick with a flat tyre. Reliant three-wheeler overtook him. “I’m not having this” he said and floored it to overtake. Smoke and sparks shot out from the back of the car as he shot past. Left a huge, long groove all along the road as the back tyre had completely shredded off the wheel. Had an uninsured, untaxed Yamaha XS750 triple with no MOT that he rode flat-out like a nutter everywhere. He once rode it flat out the wrong way down Wellesley road in Clacton to try and kill himself after he broke up with his girlfriend Sue. He damaged his bike and his leg. He and Sue got married a few years later. Shot a duck down the dump whilst his friend Paul watched on in disbelief. The friend was nearly crying when he blasted it to death with multiple shots. He left the duck in his carpentry bag in the boot of his car for weeks. When he eventually took it out, it was covered in maggots and stank out the whole car. Turned up at the pub with a bag. Opened it up to reveal various handguns and even an Uzi submachinegun. Bought a novelty dancing flower that moved in time to music in a Clacton filling station with his last £10 that had to last him the rest of the week. He found an old travel agents’ computer in a skip. Brought it home to try and get it working. Plugged into a phone line to try and order a free holiday but managed only to order loads of holiday brochures for the local travel agent branches. A few days later in town, we noticed loads of brochures outside a travel agent shop in Clacton. Had and old shotgun in a vice in the garage that he was sawing the barrels off. Just as the barrels hit the floor a copper came up the drive to ask about a car that had been abandoned down the lane somewhere. Worked with a pre-op tranny doing ship hull surveys with an ROV. As they worked all over the country, they stayed together sharing rooms at small hotels and guest houses. Soz would usually come down to the bar first in the evenings and wait for his colleague to join him, who would usually be dressed in a blouse, miniskirt, high heels and be plastered in thick makeup. Unfortunately, his colleague was the most unconvincing ‘woman’ ever as he was a big, butch ex naval diver. Of course, when people saw them together, they assumed they were a couple, much to Soz’s embarrassment. Soz referred to him as the ‘freak from the deep’ and once told him that when he had the full sex-change that they should turn his balls into earrings by setting them in resin. Once turned up at his house in Jaywick. He was sat in a chair in just a t-shirt and pants. He’d somehow acquired an old slendertone electric slimming kit. He had it set to the highest electric shock setting down his pants. He was moaning and groaning in a most peculiar way. He suffered with bad acne on his back and would often get me to heat-up a large needle until it was red hot and plunge it into the huge spots on his back. The air would be filled the pungent aroma of boiled puss. He called me his Doctor Zitago. When he lived in his bedsit in Wellesley road Clacton, he kept an old ford capri on the driveway that he was trying to customise by fitting a V8 engine from an old rover car. The driveway was in one hell of a mess with bits of car all over the place and a huge tarpaulin covering the car engine bay. He did eventually fit the engine in place and once tried starting it with just the exhaust manifold attached to the engine but nothing else. He said the noise was so loud that he had loads of complaints from the neighbours and apparently the noise could be heard all over Clacton. He once had a chip shop in Clacton on the junction of London road and old road. The business didn’t last long as he gave away huge portions and he and his mates that worked there were either pissed, stoned or both. He even kept a giant hissing cockroach in a matchbox on the shop counter as a pet. He once caught a flesh-eating disease (Necrotising fasciitis) whilst in hospital recovering after smashing his leg in a motorbike accident. He had to go into a decompression chamber on numerous occasions to try and kill the bug. The doctors in the hospital couldn’t believe he survived. Curry Night - He once visited from Plymouth and said he would make us his special curry, but he needed a couple of jars of Asda cooking sauces for it. I told him it was fine to use another brand, as we didn’t have an Asda nearby and it was getting late. He insisted it had to be the Asda brand, as the others weren’t as good. So, we had to get in his Porsche 924 and travel all the way to Bristol to get the sauce—a round trip of nearly 90 miles! When we were in the supermarket, ready to pay, Soz took out his wallet to reveal a large stack of about 12-15 credit cards. He took great delight in telling me how much he owed on each card as he laid them all out on the conveyor belt, with amounts ranging from hundreds to about thirteen thousand pounds! I asked him how on earth he was going to pay them all off. He said he wasn’t planning to; he would just declare himself bankrupt and start again. We eventually got back at about 9 o’clock that night, and he took great delight in showing off his cooking skills by making his special curry. It wasn’t very nice. He had an old, uninsured, untaxed Morris Marina car with no MOT that he used in the winter as his ‘rat car’ when it was too cold to ride his Yamaha XS750. We were driving along flat-out (about 60mph) around Clacton when he said, “watch this” He suddenly slammed the car into first gear, the engine revs went through the roof and the back wheels nearly hopped off the road. Somehow, the car managed to keep going though. He was trying to fix a crossbow in the loft of his house in Jaywick. He accidently fired it and the bolt went straight through the ceiling and narrowly missed his wife in the kitchen below. Fishing Trip - One evening in early Autumn in the mid-eighties, we went all-night sea fishing off the coast of Great Holland near Clacton. A friend of Soz's had a small, 14-foot fishing boat that he towed on a trailer to the beach with a clapped-out old Ford Escort. There were four of us crammed into the tiny boat with no lifejackets and only an old AA road map for navigation. As darkness fell, we dropped anchor about four miles offshore so we could start fishing. We'd been sitting in the freezing cold for about half an hour, and none of us had caught a thing. Soz then said, "Never mind, guys, I've brought my invention." He pulled an old, round, chrome car headlight out of a large holdall, along with a car battery and a long length of electrical wire. He attached one end of the wire to the headlight and the other to the battery. He then lowered the headlight overboard; it hit the seabed about 40 feet below. He switched the light on and, as it illuminated the seabed, he explained that it would attract loads of fish, ensuring a great catch. We caught nothing whatsoever. If anything, the light probably scared off all the fish. As it started to get light, we decided we might as well head home, but we soon realised we were totally lost. With only an old AA roadmap to guide us, we guessed we were about two miles off the coast of Jaywick, but we weren't sure as it was still too dark to make out any landmarks to help us get our bearings. We eventually made it back to land with only a thimbleful of fuel left in the tank. I didn't go fishing with them again. Most Saturday mornings, I would go to a clay pigeon shooting range near Clacton with my brother and Soz. It was a great place to go to as it was situated on a large farm and we could always find a nice quiet spot out of the way of the ‘proper’ shooters. Of course, we didn’t take the whole thing seriously as we just wanted to blast loads of clays and make loads of noise. You were supposed to pay for a set number of cartridges and only use that number of clays. We just paid the minimum amount and took our own ammo with us and fired-off as many clays as we liked. We took pot-shots at anything that happened to get in our way, such as rabbits and any passing seagulls. Soz would usually turn-up there with a small armoury of two pump-action shotguns, something he’d recently acquired and sometimes a sawn-off shotgun too. He rented a porn film from a video hire shop in Clacton high street. The film was so awful and tame, he decided to block-up the tab on the VHS tape and record several episodes of Trumpton and Camberwick Green over the film. He took it back to the shop the next day to complain. After occidentally crashing his old Alfa Romeo GTV into my parent’s driveway wall for about the third time (nobody else ever managed to hit it) the rusted bonnet of his even rustier car had become really lose. As the bonnet hinges were so badly corroded, Soz managed to temporarily secure the bonnet in place with bungee hooks. As he was driving down the A12 one day, at his usual speed of flat-out, the bonnet became detached from the bungee hooks and flew off the car and landed behind him in the middle of the busy road. He had to make an emergency stop on the hard shoulder and run up he road to retrieve it. How he didn’t manage to cause a huge pileup is anyone’s guess!. Soz was well known for driving his Alfa Romeo GTV in, shall we say, a dangerous fashion. One day whilst driving across Holland marshes towards Frinton, he somehow lost control and crashed. He said that the next thing he remembered was waking up in a state of dazed confusion on the bonnet of his car. He’d gone straight through the windscreen! (he never wore a seatbelt) When the emergency services eventually turned up, he refused any medical treatment, even though they told him he probably had concussion. The B.L.A. Soz was a member of the infamous B.L.A. (The Backwaters Liberation Army) he found an old piece of cast iron downpipe and decided to construct a mortar from it. On the day of its firing, down at the end of Island Lane; we tried to tell him, that if he stood next to it to ignite the propellant within, that the whole thing would explode in his face, sending thousands of shards of cast iron in every direction, slicing him to pieces. We was having none of this though, as he said that as he’d designed it, it would be fine. Just as he threw a lit cigarette butt into the mortar tube to ignite the propellent within, flames and acrid white smoke shot from the top of it. It was at this moment that luckily, he changed his mind and turned to run towards us to take cover. It’s fortunate for him he did, as moments later, just as we predicted, the mortar blew-up with an almighty bang, sending chunks of red-hot cast iron everywhere. When he was living in Plymouth, he started his own company ‘deactivating’ and repairing firearms. Unfortunately, things got a bit out of hand. This is how the story ended……… Here's how the press reported Soz's naughtiness in March 2001

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All characters and other entities appearing in this work are fictitious. Any resemblance to real persons or other real-life entities is purely coincidental. Soz appears courtesy of Cornish Small Arms and Sorrell Construction