At my first office Christmas dinner and dance party for a Sunday newpaper I'd starting working on at the tender age of 16 I got absolutely legless on beer, wine and whiskey. A new and friendly colleague of mine said that as his grandmother's house was nearby to the venue where the do was being held I could crash out there and we could go to work together the next morning. I got the spare room where all the Christmas presents were very neatly piled up in one corner. His grandmother was a most welcoming and lovely old lady who went to the trouble of making sure I had a full English cooked breakfast next morning before going back into the office with my appalling hangover. What we didn't know until the next day was that during my drunken blackout I'd woken up in the middle of the night bursting for a slash and had pissed all over presents.