Wiltshire County, Great Britain-1963
The two aliens hovered their ship The Lollipop above the farming village of Hangover, near Stonehenge, in the county of Wiltshire, on the Salisbury plane.
The night before they landed, Buddy, acting like an advanced alien from another world is supposed to act, was busy drawing giant dicks, boobs and the word ‘fuck’ across the English countryside as though the wheat fields below were his personal Etch-A-Sketch.
Some of Buddy’s sketches were more than a quarter mile wide. He designed the patterns on the space ship’s computer and then precision cut the artful images upon the green pastoral landscape below.
At 1:30 a.m., on June 28, 1963, while the residents of Hangover slept, Ada, his mate, demanded Buddy “go to bed and stop drawing your silly stick-figure porn with humungous butts and boobies.”
* * * *
Jolly Lord Capersmith
At two a.m., a distinguished gap-toothed mustached old duffer wearing a bowler hat, Lord Joseph Capersmith, was driving home from the Laughing Gravy Pub. He pulled his Bentley over to the side of the road that faced his family’s Ancestral Castle upon his vast Capersmithshireton Estate.
“Wot?” said Lord Joseph.
Something exciting was afoot in the fields below. His Lordship quickly grabbed his silver-tipped cane along with his fine hand-tooled leather attaché case from motorcar’s passenger seat. Inside the case were his thermos, and a brand new brass fox hunting pistol. He removed his bowler hat and replaced it with a more appropriate deer stalker cap. Lord Joseph furtively tiptoed down the slope to investigate the strange lights illuminating the wheat fields below.
“By Jove! Naughty stick figures. I doooooo say. Delightful!”
In the field, on his property no less, also stood what looked like…
“Pip. Pip,” he said while twirling his handlebar mustache.
“It’s a bloody American Juke box. Rahthah! Jolly good show, old bean.”
Step — step — step.
“It must be Princess Maggie’s idea of making merry,” his Lordship quipped. “A jest, I’m sure!”
“I’ll sit on this jolly old stump, pour myself a hot cup of tea, take aim at the doodad-thingamajig with my pistol, and give myself a bit of a respite! Simply smashing!”
Though the tipsy Lord Joseph fired and missed the juke box shaped space ship, the loud shots woke up the ever-testy alien musician, Ada, who was thoroughly enjoying an erotic dream wherein the radical Inventor, Nikola Tesla, was demonstrating his hot new invention, the Personal Harmonic Resonance Vibration Oscillator upon her squeezable alien marshmallow butt.
Capersmith stopped shooting when an invisible hand pulled back the window shade on the ship. “Something” inside the space ship struggled and cursed while trying to open the window on the front of the giant juke box. Dried paint had glued the window sill shut. Before Lord Joseph could say, with a stiff upper lip, “Oh bugger,” the window shot upward, and….
“Tallyho, Sir Asshole!” said Ada while she implemented the magic of the jolly olde ACME Auto-Suc upon Lord Joseph Capersmith, and thus deposited Lord Joseph’s royal rump within the Good Ship Lollipop.
Repeated screams of “Unhand me, knaves! Do you know who I am? I’m Lord Capersmith, a personal friend and royal subject of her majesty!” echoed deep into Jolly Olde Sherwood forest.
Ada restored the tranquility of the spacecraft when she respectfully presented His Lordship with a formal printed invitation:
“A Night To Remember
Time: June 28,1963
Location: The Bollocks Probing Pub of the Lollipop Space Craft
Hors d’oeuvres and Cocktails at 8 p.m.
Dinner immediately following
As Lord Capersmith sipped a glass of champagne, Buddy approached from behind wheeling Farmer Joe’s borrowed and glowing red, jalapeño coated rototiller.