OK, so this american guy comes to london on some sort of holiday. Fuck knows why, it's a God-foresaken place full of fish-and-chip-swilling limey fucks, and all that....
Anyhow, so he spends a fun afternoon going round all the tourist sites. He visits BUckingham Palace, the houses of parliament, madame tussauds, the tower of london, pretty much everywhere. About 5 o'clock he finds himself bursting for a piss, he's been on the go all day and can't find anywhere to relieve himself, after looking everywhere for a pub with a toilet he just can't find anywhere to go, so he unzips and is just about to go when all of a sudden a London copper comes up to him, taps him on the shoulder and says, "You can't do that in public, sir, that's against the law. Now come with me".
So the guy is bundled into the back of a police van and they drive off. Right now he's getting really worried he's going to spend a night in the cells with some of London's streetlife, and find himself bending over the next morning to pick up the soap and receiving a swift tea enema or something. So, you could say he's getting a bit worried.
Anyhow, all of a sudden the van stops, the policeman opens the doors and pulls the guy out. He shoves him down a dark alleyway, and now the guy is getting petrified he's going to be an unfortunate recipient of the famous british police brutality, or, even worse, police brutality followed by tea enema. As it happens, the policeman pushes him through a gate and says "There, sir, feel free to go in here..."
The man steps out into the light of a beautiful courtyard, with beautifully tended flower beds, roses and a lush green lawn. He's so relieved that he whips his member out and pees all over the lawn. He's scared too, though, after the ordeal in the police van, and so he has to drop his trousers and take a massive crap right on the paved courtyard, before picking a couple of big leaves off some of the lush flowers and wiping his rather stinky backside, before discarding the crap-encrusted foliage into the fountain.
"Wow," he says, emerging back out of the courtyard and into the passageway, "That was nice of you to help me like that, I guess that's what they call the famous British hospitality?"
"No," says the policeman, "that's what we call the famous French Embassy"