THIS week's Smith is a horror story, a lesson to be learned by anyone who finds themselves in a situation where they are considering letting a property.

A friend of mine, who will remain nameless, let his property through a business which advertised in the local evening and weekly press, and appeared to be a bona fide operation.

Sadly, this proved not to be the case and after numerous examples of less than professional property management, the business owner was told he was sacked forthwith.

Unfortunately, unbeknown to my friend, the sacked agent had already signed a housing contract with a new tenant for the property, and my friend was tied by the legal constraints of the Housing Act. In short, he was bound to let the property for a minimum of six months.

In that time the tenant proved unco-operative in meeting certain conditions attached to the letting agreement, and consequently left the house in a disgraceful condition, scrawling graffiti on walls, urinating in the bath, even stealing fitted furniture from the master bedroom.

His beef with my friend? The tenant claimed he was owed a £300 deposit which he allegedly paid to the aforementioned letting agent, who had since long disappeared from the face of East Lancashire.

Of course, my friend, being a civilised member of society, informed the local constabulary who subsequently arrested the former tenant. He admitted all the damage and the theft of property.

A few months later he appeared in court, admitted a criminal damage charge - quite why he was not charged with theft is beyond us - and he was given a 12 month conditional discharge and ordered to pay my pal the princely sum of £350 compensation for more than £3,000 worth of damage.

The magistrates who dealt with the case showed an extraordinary degree of leniency, one might say. I say it was another farcical display of what we all know too well - that the law, my learned friends, is nothing but an ass.

When will those in authority realise that a token slap on the wrist will do nothing to deter the lowest forms of life from doing exactly what they like, when they like? Law and order needs to be laid down firmly, otherwise it becomes what it is in 1996 - a mere joke.

And by the way, good egg that he is, the former tenant is paying off his debt at the sloth-like rate of £2.50 per week, which, with a bit of luck, should only take him approximately three years.

Meanwhile, my mate has had to stump up £15,000 for a new bathroom, new carpets, new everything. On a brighter note, however, he does say that Mr Muscle is very good at removing all traces of scum. GOOD old Gazza - the clown prince of the soccer world is also vying for the same title in the dizzy world of hair design. Not content with his peroxide look at Euro '96, Newcastle's most notorious son has now taken to the more subtle look provided by a few blond highlights around an otherwise dullish brown barnet.

First time I saw him sporting this new look during a tense Ibrox match against some outfit like Stenhousemuir, I thought a haggis had landed on his bonce.

Sorry, I take that back, it's an insult to the haggis, after all, you never heard of a haggis destroying a song like 'Fog on the Tyne', OR belching into a microphone, OR anything else outrageous for that matter...

Converted for the new archive on 14 July 2000. Some images and formatting may have been lost in the conversion.