Garth Sumpter
Outrageousness has put its tender stamp firmly on the SU Crew this month, sweeping around the office quicker than a second rate curry through the digestive system. Warlock, as Garth has now ordered everyone to call him, is famous for his attire and his ever expanding wardrobe was the subject of Crew documentation recently. A quick nose into his cupboard reveals such haute couturial items as a fluorescent lime Zoot Suit, flared collard gold lame polka dotted shirts and platformed espidrills all circa 1964, but most astounding of all are a pair of purple Rhinestone bell bottomed jeans. However they are not of the same period, but this weeks requested Birthday present from his Granny in Brighton! Going clubbing on your own this week again Garth?!

Andrea Walker
Andrea, our over-worked and some would say over-paid, designer has hit hard times. After investing a small fortune in the Paradium Industrial Rubber company, for reasons best known to herself (?), things took a dramatic down turn when share holders discovered that the main receiver of their produce, one Alan Dykes of Shoreditch, had blown all his yearly clothes budget on Bagels. The bottom fell right out of the market (and Andrea's right off of her chair!) and she now wanders the building trying to persuade people that lurex is coming back and they'd be wise to purchase at least one item from her catalogue (rumor has it Garth has so far bought half a dozen!)

Alan Dykes
Big Al has only three vices (two of which are listed above!) Fortunately the third is a lot less messy and more rewarding than the other two and requires less oil! If you haven't guessed it's WWF Wrestling. Every Friday night he steams it down to the local Derby and Joan club, squeezes into a leopard skin leotard and Alan Dykes mild mannered and slightly dislexic reporter is turned into DURODILLO! Getting to grips with a different beefcake every night of the weekend Al says that Durodillo is able to burn off all the frustration (and half the bagels) of the week. Which has to be good news for us!

Steve Keen
Steve faced a fate worse than lunch with Les Patterson last week, he had his driving test! Things were going fine until he actually had to turn the engine on and couldn't find the keys! From there things went from bad to terrible and the proposed 30 minute examination turned into a minor B rated horror flick with dithery old grannies, paperboys and household pets careering and bouncing off the bonnet of his Ford turbo nutter at regular intervals. Mr examiner, who had never seen such carnage since he was in the war, staggered out of the passenger seat and straight into the pub! Steve began to realise that things hadn't quite gone to plan and perhaps he hadn't passed and began trying to relocate various limbs and major organs to appropriate bodies. Bad luck Steve, still there's always next month, (so keep off the streets until he finally passes, eh kids!)