Malcolm Sutcliffe, or 'Sooty' to his friends is the 37 year old landlord of the 'John O'Gaunt' pub on the Richmond Gardens estate.

He has held the licence at the pub for four years now and is very much part of the community now.

Malcolm is a thin, wiry man of roughly 5'10".  An ever growing paunch is rising on his stomach giving him a 'soon-to-be' pot belly appearance.  This appearance is in part due to a diet almost exclusively of 'cooked breakfasts' from the cafe, chips from the chippy and snacking on crisps, nuts and pork scratchings behind the bar.  His contrasting leanness due to not really eating enough and spending twelve hours a day on his feet behind the bar at the 'Johnny'.

He has sandy brown hair which is beginning to recede at the back.  Combined with his NHS glasses and tired lines on his face people are usually surprised to find out how young he is.

As befits a necessity of the trade Malcolm is an outgoing, friendly man, and like all the men in the pub is exceptionally knowledgeable about a manner of subjects from history and science to politics and sport.  Indeed, his opinions and views on things from horse racing to Maggie Fucking Thatcher are often closely aligned or pleasantly contrary to whoever be is talking to.

At any one time Malcolm can tell you who will win the 3.30 at Chepstow, what's happening on Corrie or why Arthur Scargill is the worst thing to happen to the Miners.

He's a kindly gent to the old dears in the snug on Bingo afternoon and one of the lads roaring with laughter at the racist jokes told at the bar.  Those who know him well will sometimes note an unpleasant tone to jokes about 'her indoors'...

The reason for this is when Malcolm left his job at Crompton Carpets and realised his dream of owning a pub he brought with him his wife Brenda and their daughter Nicola.  Brenda couldn't cope with the late nights, the noise, and always painting a face to serve the dirty bastards at the bar, whilst Malcolm seemed in his element.

After only six months living at the 'Johnny' Brenda upped sticks and left, taking little Nicola with him.  She's now married to some posh insurance salesman called Clive and living in a semi in Spennyworth.  He's supposed to see Nicola at the weekends but he can hardly do that when that's when the pub is busiest can he?  Brenda calls him fit to burn and a 'fucking bastard of a Dad' but what does she know?

Called 'Sooty' by his mates he keeps a glove puppet of the clever yellow bear behind the bar for a laugh.  It's better than being called the Yorkshire Ripper's brother....