I'm sure that most people who remember Mike Johnson had absolutely no idea what he did for the company.

Basically, from the very early Golden Square days, he was a Mr Fixit character. He got things done (not always strictly legal) and, as he became a very good friend and is now sadly departed, I think it's probably best not to elaborate on that too much.

He and I shared a flat on 2 or 3 occasions and more importantly shared 2 rather expensive Spurs Season Tickets (together with Charlie & Maurice's PA, Simon Mellor) which somehow found their way through the Saatchi books and onto an account whose Marketing Director was an Arsenal fan.

We, of course, thought this was a real hoot!

However, there are two things that I'm sure Mike wouldn't mind me sharing: one was that he drank far too much (most of the agency did, but truly Mike excelled at it) and two, his feet stank – and these two nasties came together one evening.

It was about 5ish and we were sat in his office on the 6th floor (the big boy's floor, Charles & Maurice, Ken Gill, David Perring and Martin Sorrell) with 2 huge Vodka and Limes, talking about God knows what.

Mike had swivelled his chair around and, shoeless, was airing his feet through the large sash window that overlooked Charlotte Street. It was certainly the best place for them and any passer-by looking up from the street would have been greatly amused.

Then suddenly, and for no apparent reason, the huge wooden sash window swooshed down like a French Guillotine, crashing into his ankles and almost dismembering both his feet.

The scream was quite deafening and I rushed around the desk, took his drink off him (priorities!) raised the sash window and removed his smelly, but now rather swollen, feet.

Even though it obviously hurt, a lot, and Mike did have a non-drink related problem walking for a day or two, we both thought this was hysterical and when 2 or 3 people came running into the office we were both totally incapable, either through laughter or pain, of explaining what had happened.

I assume they just thought we were pissed.

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Written for the book, CHUTSPAH & CHUTSPAH