Sitting in a club one evening enjoying a cocktail or five, Petty's radar-like eyes spotted a motley bunch who looked like they were shooting an ad. Despite the fact that he was supposed to be on holiday, Petty couldn't resist tapping one of them on the shoulder and starting a yawn-worthy discussion about the latest technical gizmos and techniques.
But after wending his way back to his wife, a Tequila Sunrise and a bowl of nuts, Petty's night started to go awry. The star of the ad, a comely belly dancer, had been given the nod by someone on the team doubtlessly wanting revenge for Petty's earlier dull camera commentary. Said dancer jiggled over, draped over Petty and invited him to shed his inhibitions and, ahem, some of his clothes, to throw himself into the music.
Petty agreed, and grooved away with the lovely damsel while the cameras rolled in the corner. It was only after the footage was in the can that our man discovered the awful truth. Look out for a global trade ad featuring a gyrating and sweating media man aimed at getting people to visit beautiful North Cyprus. Or perhaps not.