They remind me of the children at Roald Dahl’s Chocolate Factory. The abundance of available gratification bringing out the worst in all of them, with each one over-induging in their weaknesses and sick dreams – hoarding cash, over eating, excessive drinking, flaunting riches women and power. Time to call down the elevator and send them home.

That’s what I thought: that his minibar bill alone, on that one trip, was equivalent to that ruddy clock.