The seven men entered the illustrious lobby of the Hilton Hotel. They felt very out of place in their disheveled, dusty clothes.

“I can’t wait to get some sleep,” Chip yawned.

“Who said we were staying here?” Drew queried.

“All part of the puzzle, we have to buddy,” Ryan grinned and slapped Drew on the back.

“Oh man,” Drew grumbled before heading over to book some rooms.

Drew returned several minutes later. “Ok. Brad and Wayne, here’s your key, Chip and Greg, Ryan and Colin…”

“We have separate beds this time right?” Ryan asked.

“Yep. And I have a king sized bed all to myself. Ha!” Drew grinned and marched off in the direction of the elevator.

Wayne and Brad unlocked their hotel room door and were relived to see the two plush beds. Wayne staggered over and fell face down on one. “I’m never moving,” he said, his voice muffled by the doona.

“I need a shower, or a bath or…ohhh a Jacuzzi,” Brad perked, poking his head into the en suite.

“We’ve got a jacuzzi?” Wayne gasped, lifting his head.

“We certainly do, and it’s all mine,” Brad announced, leapt into the en suite and locked the door.

Wayne didn’t have the energy to argue. He rolled over onto his back and grabbed the television remote. He surfed the channels: black and white movie, Entertainment Tonight, an evangelist. Wayne eventually settled on Ricki Lake, the show was titled something like “You’re a hoochie mama with a big butt your clothes are too tight and you look like a slut.” For the first time, Wayne suddenly realised what the rest of the world thought of Americans.

Brad let out a low groan: bathing had never felt so good. He wasn’t sure what he must have smelt like. A cross between a yak and a rotting corpse, he imagined. There was no way in hell he was putting his clothes back on, he’d wear the complimentary robe instead.

Brad felt a wave of relaxation spread over him and then suddenly had a thought. He got back to his feet and stepped out of the bath and wandered over to the mirror, leaving a trail of puddles and bubbles.

He turned around and then looked back.

For the first time he saw his tattoo.

His mouth opened to scream but nothing came out.

Both Greg and Chip had taken quick showers and were sitting on their beds in their complimentary robes.

“You know, I think I’m going to burn those clothes,” Greg announced.

“They’ll be fine once they’re cleaned,” Chip laughed.

“You think? I don’t think the smell of those damn sheep will ever come out,” Greg sighed.

“They’ll be fine. Oh hey, I might give the wife a call,” Chip announced.

“Are you sure that’s a good idea?” Greg mused.

“Of course! You should call yours, too,” Chip perked and grabbed the phone.

Greg couldn’t hear Chips’ wife but his side of the conversation went along the lines of, “Darling it’s me…where am I? Well, you’ll never believe this, you’ll laugh when I tell you…What do you mean you might? I’m in Australia, all the guys are…No I’m not in Vegas…I’m serious…Honey, that’s not a nice word… Honey, would I lie to you? Ok, that was different…I’m really in Australia…Look, Greg’s here…” Chip held the phone out to Greg.

“Hello, Mrs Esten,” Greg chirped.

“He is not a bad influence on me…I’m really in Australia…Prove it…What? You want me to get a kangaroo on the phone?…No I’m not being sarcastic…There’s no need for that kind of language honey…honey.”

Chip put the phone down, “Oh, am I in trouble.”

“And that is why I’m avoiding calling my wife. I’ll make something up back in the States.” Greg grinned.

“I’ve never heard her use so many expletives before,” Chip sighed.

“You get used to it,” Greg soothed. “Hey, let’s get some room service,” he added.

“I’m not really hungry,” Chip sulked.

“Sure you are,” Greg enthused. “Drew’s paying.”

“Well, if Drew’s paying,” Chip smiled.

Colin wandered into the unlocked hotel room. Ryan had gone up straight away but Colin had hung back to ask a few questions and acquire an Australian atlas. He dumped the atlas on his bed and stared at the TV. Ricki Lake was on. He was almost tempted to watch it, but was being nauseated by his own bodily stench. He grabbed his complimentary robe and towel off the bed and marched into the bathroom.

Ryan was in the bath. He almost fit in it, too, and was sporting the complimentary shower cap.

“Hey buddy,” Ryan chirped.

Colin looked slightly embarrassed and averted his eyes.

“Col, I’m completely covered by bubbles,” Ryan mused.

“I’ll go back and wait,” Colin mumbled.

“No need…jump in the shower…I won’t look…promise,” Ryan said kindly.

Colin looked at Ryan half-suspicious, but he was exhausted and just wanted to get it over and done with.

“You think we should call our wives?” Colin asked, poking his soggy head out of the shower.

“No. I thought about it. I don’t know about Deb but I somehow don’t think Pat is going to believe I’m in Australia,” Ryan mused. “Would you?”

“Good point,” Colin replied. “Have you seen the shampoo?”

Ryan gave him an almost pitying look.

“I do have some hair,” Colin grumbled.

“Oh, I could say something, but I won’t,” Ryan chuckled.

Colin smiled but shook is head in disbelief, then disappeared back into the shower.

“Maybe we should send them postcards” Ryan piped up.

“We’ll get home before they do,” Colin replied over the sound of a squeaking shampoo bottle.

They fell silent, the only noise being the gushing shower water.

“So what took you so long anyway?” Ryan asked, chucking a sponge that landed at Colin’s feet in the shower.

“I was asking questions about us, but I’ll tell everyone in the morning,” Colin replied and chucked the sponge back.

The sponge dropped in front of Ryan and caused water to splash in his face.

“Ohh is it interesting?” Ryan asked, chucked the sponge back.

This time it slapped Colin’s bald head.

“You’ll just have to wait and see,” Colin snide, sauntering out of the shower in his robe and lobbing the sponge back at Ryan.

“Do you know in some cases this’d be classed as foreplay?” Ryan said pointedly as he picked up the sponge.

“Next time I’m sharing with Drew,” Colin announced as the sponge slopped onto the back of his head.

Drew, after taking a look round his room, had headed back downstairs, taken a seat at the bar and ordered some food. He was feeling particularly out of place as the other patrons were dressed in formal gear and looked very upper class. A woman in a black evening gown glided past Drew and he was forced to hold back from belching.

“Just let it out,” smiled the barmaid.

“Thanks but I think this place is a bit classy for burping,” Drew replied.

“This is Australia, nowhere is too classy for burping,” the barmaid laughed.

Drew laughed too. Damn, she was cute.

“So you here on a business trip?” asked the barmaid.

“Actually it’s a bit more complicated than that,” Drew mused.

“Sounds intriguing,” the barmaid smiled and leaned forward on the bar.

“Oh, believe me when I tell you it’s not,” Drew purred.

The barmaid fell into an unmistakable sulk.

“If you’re that interested you can come to my room and we can talk some more,” Drew joked.

“All right…I get off in ten minutes,” the barmaid said, raising an eyebrow and then turned away to serve a customer.

“Me too with any luck,” Drew mumbled.