15 AUGUST 1987, Page 44

Strange encounter

Jaspistos

In Competition No. 1484 you were asked for a newspaper account of the greeting, by an official deputation, of English-speaking inhabitants of another planet who have landed in Britain, having announced the time and place of their arrival.

According to Timothy Good, whose recent book bears the subtitle 'The World- wide UFO Cover-up', encounters with extra-terrestrial folk are an attested, though suppressed, truth. Mr Alfred Bur- too, walking by the Basingstoke Canal in 1983, reported a conversation with spacepersons from a ship 'very much like an oversized chimney cowl' who were 'four feet high, dressed in pale green overalls from head to foot'. They rudely told him, 'You are too old and infirm for our purpose.' Whether he was an ashen-faced 89 or 19 or even, if they were Jesuits, nine, I do not know. It wasn't far from Basing- stoke that Welk, in his War of the Worlds, had his Martians land; in fact it was Byfleet, not a mile from where I grew up. I remember as a heartless rebellious lad approving of his choice, an area thick with capitalist golfers who deserved to be shaken to the roots. The Martians were greeted by, among others, a dreadful vicar, who was quickly zapped. That at the time delighted me too; as did the other great literary example of a zapped clergyman, the rector in Rex Warner's The Aerod- rome, machine-gunned at the village fete.

The best loser's opening sentence was Bill Anderson's: 'Those of us privileged to be admitted to the roof of the Shell Building at 3.30 this morning witnessed the arrival of the 7,343,601 Unipods from Centauri Sigma 4.2.' The winners printed below earn f18 each, and the bonus bottle of 904 Gran Reserva (spelled correctly at last) from La Rioja Alta, the gift of Mr David Balls of Wines from Spain, goes to

Len Wellgerbil, a Sun reporter even snap- pier than his creditable rivals, Roger Woaddis and Roderick Clayton.

SPACERS: 'YES MA'AM!'

E.T. your heart out!

That was yesterday's monster message from the universe.

For the 28-49-17 galaxy guests who jetted into Stonehenge at 3 p.m. speak the Queen's En- glish!

As they told Her Majesty!

Beaming 'We beamed down to beat violence,' said the outer-space Mr Men.

The Queen and Her ministers — including PM Maggie Thatcher — shook hands warmlY. Three each! 'We always need extra sets of hands,' quipped the Duchess of York.

Laughter The new arrivals, in salmon-pink shifts, gig' gled.

Some pointed extendable eves at the Cabinet. 'All look the same, yes. ma'am.' they com- mented. pointing at suits.

Everyone laughed. ESPECIALLY when the 'things' did passable curtseys. AND when Kenneth Baker posed in pink tunic for cameras.

Applause

`We plan opt-out schools,' he told the friendly freaks.

And earned a three-handed clap!

Last night the voyagers were 'resting' at GCHQ, Cheltenham, before a nationwide tour.

(Len Wel!gerbil)

Two problems beset photographers of this historic occasion: first the verdant green space- suits of the astronauts, a colour which merged imperceptibly with the sodden Berkshire Downs on which their spacecraft had inadvertently landed; more serious, however, was the minute stature of these Martians. Focus was forced relentlessly on the surprising figure of Sir Geoffrey Howe, descending from deep shampoo to hoop position. Still finding himself nonethe- less completely out of range of handshake, he adroitly adopted a more convenient crouching stance, soon assumed by other welcoming mem- bers of HM Government. Interviewed on 'Newsnight' subsequent to the return blast-off to Mars, Sir Geoffrey admitted, 'It was difficult to treat such beings as political equals, still less as potential antagonists.' He added, 'As I stooped down to meet them a sudden childhood urge almost overcame me to

pick them up, take them to the nursery and start playing with them.' (Lettice Buxton) SUE WAS NOT MY MOTHER, SAYS ANGRY VENUSMAN Mystery and armed police today surrounded the grounded Venuhinea's craft at Stansted. Yester- day their leader — Stephen Scroop, 38, of Venusberg, Venus — was cheered as he stepped out and said, 'Dear earth, I do salute thee with my hand.' But he was upset when the welcoming party was introduced. 'Where is the Earl of Wiltshire?' he asked. 'Where is Bagot? What is become of Bushy? Where is Green?' And then, when some pressmen laughed, he seemed to take offence. He strode back to the craft, saying he was not born to Sue but to Command. He is still inside, refusing to talk. Professor Richard Dick (`Clever' to colleagues), of Pomfret, Ariz., is convinced that Mr Scroop learnt his English from a single work. He cannot yet say which one. More time is needed for research, he says.

(David Heaton) PM LIFTS MARS BAR

Motorway madness took on a new meaning today when Martian spaceships made a forced landing on Birmingham's Spaghetti Junction. `These jokers are not bona-fide political re- fugees,' said Immigration Officer Fred Sproat, but a telephone call from Downing Street (delayed because of technical faults) overruled him, as the visitors are planning to establish a factory near Sunderland. The official welcoming party being fogbound at Stonehenge (the sche- duled landing area), a local delegation received the Martians at a nearby service station, where they enjoyed a traditional cuppa. RAC men formed a guard of honour, and a Heavy Metal rock group, en route for Wigan, played the National Anthem, in the absence of the Grena- dier Guards. To mark their historic visit to Britain, the space travellers were presented with a signed portrait of Rupert Murdoch, a copy of Wisden and a video recording of The Price is