Imagine the scene... Following an evening of alcohol fuelled debauchery you wake up with that oh so familiar thought of "What the f*ck was I drinking last night?" A body moves under the quilt, you have a vague recollection of scoring with Kylie in the wee small hours of the morning. Amazed at your own sexual prowess you pull back the quilt to expose the sex kitten you have trapped. You recoil in horror as you discover you have in fact inadvertently shagged Faye Turney.. The question is... do you do a kiss and tell to the tabloids for a vast sum of money... or do you gnaw off your arm at the shoulder and make your escape?