We at WASA HQ are great believers in the notion of “ignore it, and it’ll go away”. It’s always worked briefly in the past. But those Europan aliens are very insistent – they’ve been back on Mamgu’s telly every night lately, and always during Pobl y Cwm. They seem to be getting nasty. Just because our Dilwyn ate their pop star or whoever it was – it was only a flipping alien for goodness sake. Mamgu’s had to go to Mrs Meredith’s next door to shout at the telly now.
We can’t help feel we might get into awful trouble though, if an alien invasion turns out to be our fault. So we’ve phoned Susan Boyle to see if she fancies a trip to Jupiter as our earthly ambassador, where she might get to meet some alien record producers. We neglected to mention she was going to be their tea. Anyway, she hung up after the fifth time we rang and said she was going to call the police. We couldn’t find Cheryl Cole’s phone number and when we rung Roger Whittaker, he said that he might be interested but that he wasn’t the singing Roger Whittaker, but a machine-shop foreman from Rotherham and that the aliens might not find him such a delicacy.
We were just about to phone the Prime Minister, David Cameraman, to warn him of earth’s imminent danger when look who turns up? Dilwyn’s waste-of-space brother, Berwyn. Only ever seen when his week has run out of giro or his packet out of fags. Berwyn is stuck in June 1973 and only ever sees life through a fug of dodgy smoke and has very little idea, ever, about what is going on. We might just have found our Subo!
So now, how to get him to the Europans’ dining table? With Uncle Rhodri’s shotgun licence now revoked we can’t use the 12-bore cartridge propulsion drive like we did for Cymru III. His order for 25,000 size 12 cartridges seem to have set alarms bells ringing down at Ruthin nick.
Our boffins have been experimenting with a microwave propulsion system involving popcorn and boiled eggs, but are beginning to favour our new drum ‘n bass funk engine for this urgent mission. Can’t say too much about it at this stage except that it comprises a LOT of second-hand sound systems out of boy-racers’ cars.
Launch date set for the next full moon – if you can see it, you can’t hit it, that’s our motto. We can’t call the new craft Cymru IV because we’ve already used that. Anyway, we’ll lure Berwyn into said, as yet, unmade vehicle, with the promise of making him a giro millionaire and more of his “arthritis medicine” than he can ever smoke. Then we’ll hit the launch button before he realises it’s photocopied dole and a heap of horse exhaust. Cymru 6 is on the way.
At the very least, this mission will clean up the gene-pool here on earth.