Chapter Four. THE VISITATION

The Visitation.




Much has been made recently of the spate of U.F.O. sightings over the English countryside. So much so, that the Red Tops have had a field day. Nobody seems to know how a wind turbine blade managed to be ripped off and made to disappear. Except of course the tabloids. Claiming that It was damaged when one of these little green beggars crashed his flying saucer into it . Smashed it off, and took the blade away, causing squillions of pounds worth of damage. This is unlikely to be the case. It’s more likely that the thing had metal fatigue and just broke and plummeted to the ground? Then before anyone had noticed, as it happened at night, the engineers came along and removed it for safety reasons, and to investigate the cause of the failure.



I wouldn’t have thought E.T. is going to want to drag a dirty great huge turbine blade all the way across the galaxy as a souvenir. Do you? These blades are over sixty feet long. Think of the fuel consumption figures on that trip. He gets home, and hands the keys back to his dad, and tells him that it might need filling up. That’ll go down well. Besides which, a bit of metal the size of Cheshire is not going to fit inside his suitcase either, unless he has a shrink ray of course, so it’s not going to get past customs in a hurry either is it! Did our little green friend take it as proof to his accident insurer (AXA.-Alien Xtra Assured -)? Or to explain the big dent in the front of the spaceship when he gets back home; and tells everyone that the damage was caused by some Earth plonker waving his arms about, yes, he really did try to avoid him, but he had three arms, and they were going round really fast. The fact is he was really very big. But no, he can’t be really sure whether the Earthling survived the accident. Anyway it was raining, and he didn’t think it was a good idea to stop and check, in case things turned nasty, and caused a scene.



Don’t get me wrong. I am all for the idea of E.T. paying us a visit. The E.T. I refer to here is the Extra Terrestrial. Not my mother, Eileen, whose initials are the same as the aforementioned visitor. Hope that clears things up a little bit. Just in case someone got the idea that my mum is an alien. She assures me she isn’t, but how can I be sure? Besides, that film has already been made. Was our alien friend attempting to communicate with the wind turbine as it looked like HIS mother? Who knows? Why would we care? So long as he didn’t kill anyone.



It does however, give us pause for thought. Are we really alone in the Universe? Is it not a bit conceited of us to think that life could not evolve anywhere else in the Cosmos? Even now scientists at N.A.S.A. and Cambridge are planning to send probes to Mars. The planet, not the chocolate bar made in Slough. Why? Well they say they can prove there is life there. How? A teklyscope thing on Earth has discovered clouds of methane gas covering the surface of the red planet. Fan blinking tastic. Positive proof that there are Martians.That’s what they say. If it’s true it would also be positive proof that they have a flatulence problem. I too, have this embarrassing condition, (usually after beans and sprouts and beer) as anyone will tell you. I wouldn’t want to share it with anybody else, as a rule. Would you? Let alone some Martians you have never met before. That would be very rude. Therefore, perhaps we should maybe leave them alone till they are evolved enough to find a cure.



There are, however, billions of stars in the Universe. Which means it’s likely that there are billions and billions of planets to go with them. It is more likely, than not, that life does exist elsewhere. But would E.T. really come all this way and not actually stop to say “OUCH!”? If I were an alien, and a lot of people already say that I am, and I came along to Earth with my alien mates, possibly for a game of footie, or cricket, I would like you to know that you are not alone. That there are a vast host of different beings and races out there, just waiting to play football with you, and welcome you to the greater universe. Just so long as you don’t shoot at them with missiles, or play Morrissey records to them. We would all then, likely as not, catch the common cold, and die to death, fatally. This would be a bit of a shame, as the mission would come to a very abrupt end and the Intergalactic Football Cup would have about as much meaning in reality as the World Series in Baseball. Humans would then be known as the Greatest Mass Murderers in Intergalactic history.



Now a proper question. Are flies an alien race? They most certainly do not look of this Earth. I mean, look at those non blinking eyes for a start off. A thousand of them. No point in going to Spec-Savers then. That would wipe out the buy one pair get another pair absolutely free offer off the face of the Earth for those of us that need to see. I doubt, anyway, they could pilot some interstellar craft, through the vastness of space, as they don’t have any fingers or opposable thumbs. They do however have a neat little drinking straw type thing attached to their nose, which may come in handy in a drinking game that I know. It is possible, that they are from another world, and are here on a mission to spread disease, and pestilence, among the indigenous population? Quite successfully it would seem. But is it wise to kill an alien being without fear of interstellar warfare breaking out? It’s possible that I have killed the odd few thousand flies in my time, but I can’t actually say that I saw them as aliens, until now. There are billions more of them, than us, but we are bigger and strongerer than they are, HA HA HA HA HA HA HA! Sorry about that. Now where was I. Oh yes? Its okay to kill the odd one or two million of the pesky little good for nothing blighters. Because, other than feeding spiders and birds, and spreading disease and pestilence, I can’t actually see a real reason for their existence anyway. So, are flies, aliens? It is possible, but, for now, this will have to remain, the greatest unanswered question, known to me and God.



I do have other questions, such as, how does gravity keep us on the ground, when we aren’t made of metal? Ha hah. I mean, Earth is a ruddy great magnet isn’t it? However this question and others like it, are totally irrelevant, and have nothing to do with aliens and their intergalactic fleets of space ships, preparing to invade our glorious home world.



If beings from another planet did come to visit our humble little water filled globe, would they only go to America? Let’s face it, whenever a film is made about aliens, they always land in the good old U.S of America. Is this because of the vast, wide open spaces, where they can observe us, or assimilate themselves and remain amongst us without being detected. Is it because there is a better selection of burger chains? We only have the Big Mac or Burglar King. They have a different one in every town over there in Americaland. When you go to one of those fast food outlets, can you be sure that, that isn’t an alien behind the counter asking you, “do you want fries with that?” You don’t know, do you! They may be fattening us up to devour us later when we’re relaxed and comfortable in our own size.



Is it coincidence that alien encounters only started to appear after the arrival of fizzy cola style drinks? Was this just another ingenious product, designed by aliens, to make us taste sweeter for when the Great Eating Festival happens on Qwuag in 2047? We won’t be any the wiser, because we don’t eat each other (usually), but I bet by then, we don’t taste like we do now. We’re more likely to taste like Number 136 from your local Chinese Take-away. Sweet n sour Chicken. Mmmmm Mmmm.



They never turn up outside Number 10 Downing Street and walk up to the policeman on duty and ask to see our “Good Friend Gordon”(the “GFG”) do they? Is this because Gordon himself is one of them, and they beam in, so as not arouse suspicion? How can we tell? You can’t in all honesty expect anyone to believe he is human can you? Questions. Questions.



Have you noticed, that when an alien allegedly appears, it’s always the least most likely person to be believed, that they choose to make themselves known to. Some old bloke on his way home from another bloody good session down at The Red Lion. Three steps forwards, two steps back. Lurch to the side. “Bugger. That’s a bit bright.” “Turn that bloody light off ya bastards.” “Bloody hell, you’ve got long arms haven’t you.” “What are you doing with that needle?”

“Where am I?” “Oh! Hello Prime Minister. They’ve got you too?” Never a Cambridge Professor. Oh no!



Is the credit crunch, just actually a cover for the government, so they can squirrel away all the money, to pay for the flight back to wherever it is they came from? I mean. It can’t be cheap to travel ten billion light years across the galaxy. Not, in “I’m Mandy, Fly me”, class anyway. If us normal people were to go, we would be put into steerage, right next to the kitchens, and told to hang on tight, as the “jump to hyperspace is always a bit tricky, what with all this extra weight and everything.” Don’t even go down the road of asking when lunch is going to be served, as the answer may not be what you really want to hear.

“Lunch will be served on the First Class Deck. In an hour.” “Good day to you Gordon. How is Tony and his Family these days? We haven’t seen him for ages. Not since we left that little W.M.D. memo accidentally lying around. Good idea of yours. Can I take your order for lunch?” “Number 136 Sweet’ n’ Sour Chicken. Excellent choice if I may say so sir.”

“Do you want fries with that?”





































































(No sweet n sour chickens , flies or Aliens were harmed on purpose in the making of this chapter)