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It was a hobby of yours to camp down just outside the boundaries of the holiday park for a weekend. The plan was to get talking to girls that go walking, offer them some refreshment back at your tent then try your hardest to seduce them. Sometimes it worked. But this weekend was a wash out. The weather was dreadful, no one was out walking the woods and your tent was sodden through.

As night fell on the Saturday, you decide to call it quits and start the three mile trek back to the railway station. Your clothes are wet, your bags heavy and you're tired and cold.

As you make your way along the road, trying desperately to thumb a lift, the first few cars speed past. The white van driver though, really pissed you off - as he passes you're sprayed with mud and debris from the road. Your hand signal changes from thumb to middle finger. But he's pulling up further ahead - he flashes his brake lights as a signal.

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