£18000 was how much it was going to cost to get him out of jail. Such is the price for public indecency in front of the queen.

It wasn't even that it was so...indecent. It was more along the lines of public infantilism. We'd both been to London before, and we had done all the touristy things, all the things that young men with wild oats were desperately in need of doing, but this time, Adam took it too far.

Adam, he of the propensity for humping things, took one look at the Royal Guard, and in a moment of unflinchingly honest revelry, perhaps brought on by a drink or two, he grabbed the guard and humped away.

He couldn't help it. Maybe it was the hat, all fuzzy up on top of the head. It looked more humpable than the Tower of London and the Eye. Still, it didn't matter one bit to anyone, as when I went to pick them up, there was the picture of a lifetime for all of us waiting at the police station.

He was full-hump, a Guardsmen out of the right side of the picture brandishing a stick, and the Queen, shocked as ever, mouth agape, peering out of a window from the second story.

How much is a picture worth? 1000 words? No. £18000.