Every writer and art director at Saatchi's in London wanted to work on the XXXX campaign, but it was hard to get anything through: one team who had been working on the account for years had a complete stranglehold on it, making sure they got their trip Down Under every year to shoot the commercials and stills.

One year, determined to get myself a free trip to Australia, I wrote about 20 commercials and an equal number of posters - including the one you see here. When I told my art director this idea, I received her usual response: "Are you being effing serious? That's effing hopeless. I effing hate it!" Yes, she really did speak like that. Maybe she suffered from

Tourette's syndrome, or maybe she'd been working on the docks before becoming an art director. I don't know.

Too terrified to argue - she had that effect on me - I nervously stuck my stick figure layout on the wall, alongside some other ideas. (If she didn't like an idea of mine, she simply refused to draw up a layout).

A few days later, a creative director saw it and said, "Fantastic! Great! Love it!" and sold it to the client. My art director never ever acknowledged her mistake, even after it had picked up a handful of gold and silver awards (which also had her name on them). Effing crazy business. I never even got my trip to Australia to shoot the poster.