Superstooge Paul Williamson provides a commentary on these images that were taken during a private slapstick session he’d been hired for:
‘When I arrived at his flat, the guy who’d booked me wanted to see what I was going to wear. I usually bring a selection of briefs, trunks, and jocks to a job. I tried some on for him, and he said these Speedos would be okay. They were going to end up trashed, but I always factor in the cost of a new pair when I tell clients my fee.
The session started slowly. In the first quarter hour I only got one pie in the face, and then two more wrapped round my head. My wrists were locked in handcuffs behind my back.
The guy chucked a few more pies at me, one at a time. Perhaps he enjoyed quietly observing just how messy I was becoming.
It wasn’t till he’d tipped the bucket of white paste over me that I began receiving the kind of rough treatment that’s my selling point. He’d locked my wrists in front at this point. I was nearly completely messed-up now and starting to worry about getting cold because I’d agreed to a long session.
After that he ordered me to take up positions that were obviously degrading. But since I was on the market as a superstooge, I just had to accept this as part of the gig.’
Wow! How does one go about marketing oneself as a stooge?
