Ashley, Pudsey’s owner, was nowhere in site when Simon Cowell led a rather inebriated looking Pudsey (the dancing dog) into smoked out recesses of a limousine last night.
Pudsey didn’t react but is believed to have succumbed to his charms at the nigh club when offered meat and a bowl of consomme brewed from rare animal pancreas paste.
“That stuff is pretty pricey, I’d fucking eat it!” Said Cindy, a model who’s been throwing herself at Simon for years without achieving so much as a gob in the face.
This fits the profile as Pudsey is much younger than Cowell, unattached and illiterate.
Tonight Mr Cowell, who has expressed his love jokingly for the dog before, inadvertently revealed his true feelings with involuntary body language when the duo finished their dance on the final of Britain’s Got Talent.
As the applause died down and the camera fell upon Cowell who, locking eyes with the uber talented pooch, took a moment to pull his shirt apart thus revealing a few more tantalising millimeters of his chest.
All eyes will be on Holland Park tomorrow morning after tonight’s party … will they emerge for the cameras smiling?
Or, as is more likely, will Pudsey creep out before he wakes up, crap on the bonnet of his car and then head down to the nearest corner shop for a pint of milk and some toothpicks?