Despite being asked to fill in a ‘dietary requirements form’ before she arrived, this twat didn’t think it was important to tell you in advance that she’s a *shudder* …vegan.

She waits until breakfast to announce that if she’s in the same room as a peanut she will swell up like a Zeppelin, turn purple and die. Not only this but she’s a wheat intolerant, gluten resistant nightmare and eggs ‘make her moody’.

Ski time? Forget it. You’ll be working seventeen hours straight to rid the chalet of all nut traces. Then it’s off down to the shops for you to seek out some edible matter this cretin can ingest without dying.

While you’re out, she’ll destroy the kitchen making a ‘superfood smoothie’ that looks like pureed gangrene, containing angel farts and some form of rare algae.

Always remember, there’s nothing you can’t do with a three inch stack of niftily sliced tomatoes and microwaved courgettes that a good, artistic drizzle of Doritos salsa dip won’t improve to the point of Michelin star gastronomy.

She’ll never know the difference because she’s a joyless idiot who hates food.