They Always Think They're Right

So here is my first Christmas card to you. And actually it is the first ever Christmas card. It was made in 1843 by John Callcott Horsley
He only did 100 so he must have been a bit sad and lonely because The Parents send out about 3000. If you want to make your own Christmas card you can click on the Christmas trees for some festive fun - honest.

So, I am squished in between two people who both have puffy jackets on. They look like two blown up lifeboats with tiny people peeping out from inside. They are mostly silent and keep their beady eyes on the tent doorway.
'I can tell you about crop circles, if you like...' I say.
Silence.
'I think we should go and set up the camera,' says Pinhead 1 to Pinhead 2. 'We don't want to miss anything.'
'...Or balls of light?' I say.
'Let's just finish the drinks first- it's cold out there,' says Pinhead 2 to Pinhead 1.
So, I am not wanted. I am just a talking duvet. Grandpa Jack comes into the tent on his knees, beard first. He wafts whisky fumes over the crew. Now I know why his stinky pipe is so useful.
'I've read the alien signs - they'll be back later,' he puffs and flops over, shoving me against the side of the tent. 'I've met Buzz Aldrin, you know!' he says.
Yeah, I have heard that one before, I think.
The director raises his head above his neckline. 'How very interesting,' he says and he really is. 'And do you think Buzz believes in alien life?'
'Oh, I should think so,' says Grandpa Jack, settling into remaining free space. 'When you've been in space, there is no end to what you can believe. '
What does Grandpa Jack know how Buzz Aldrin feels? I shuffle out of my duvet. I am heating up with annoyance.
The Pinheads are nodding inside their coats, their eyes all fascinated. 'Have you actually been in space Dr Marshall?'
Doctor? Doctor Marshall? In space? I look at Grandpa Jack and he grasps my shoulder very hard.
'Agh!' I say.
'Space is nothing to me,' says Grandpa. 'Any spare hot chocolate?
'I'm going home,' I say to anyone who is listening but nobody is. I worm my way to the flaps and come face to face with Dexter. His mouth is a bit droopy.
'Oh it's you,' I say. 'You can't come in - there's no room.'
'I don't want to come in,' says Dexter, 'but my dad does and there's some other bloke as well...'
He is shoved aside by his Dad. 'Hi! I'm Dave Dooney, alien-kidnap-boy's father and I am prepared to give you exclusive televisual rights to an interview with me...'
Pinhead 1 tries to get to his feet and then remembers where he is and sort of scrunches to his knees. 'I think we should talk Mr Dooney - would you like some hot chocolate?'
'I'd like some hot chocolate,' says Dexter.
Dave Dooney waves him away. 'Go home, son - we don't need you.'
Dexter looks at me and shrugs. I understand exactly how he feels. I shrug back and give him a friendly arm punch. We wriggle out of the tent and into the dark of the flattened field. Miranda's Dad, Chas is lying face down on the ground. Miranda holds a torch for him. She waves. Chas jumps up and runs to the tent.
'Out of my way, boys,' he cries, 'I need WORDS.'
He bobs down and leaves his bottom sticking out of the tent doorway while he shouts inside. 'I think you should know that this field is about to be declared a site of special scientific interest. I have discovered an interesting little nest of wasp spider and it is being DESTROYED by these so called alien landings...'
'What d'you mean so-called...' Dexter smirks as he hears his Dad shouting back.
'Let me in!' bellows Chas. 'It's this sort of hysterical moronic behaviour that endangers the entire planet! I think...'
We don't get to hear what he thinks because his bottom and legs disappear in a rush through the doorway. The tent starts rocking and bulging out all over the place. There are shouts and oofs.
'That is pathetic,' says Miranda. 'They always think they're right.'
'Adults,' I sigh.
'They take over,' says Dexter and we all nod in agreement.
'Do you want to come and see the stick insects?' asks Miranda. 'There are millions of them now.'
I look at Dexter.
'Could do,' says Dexter. We glance at the tent. It seems almost alive, most of its pegs are flying about and it is listing dangerously.
'I think they're going to be busy for a while,' I say.

We set off out onto the little lane. A bright orange light appears above our heads. It flashes and pulses. Gradually it takes the shape of a long tube. We stop and wait. My mouth is open and I cannot stop the dribble coming out. A little door slide opens on the underside. A large yellow head with a funny green beak pops out.
'Bit lost,' says the alien creature. 'Can you tell us the way to London? Got some leaders to eat, I mean meet. Baa-aak!'
I raise a trembling hand and point somewhere or other. Just my luck, we get to meet the aliens and they turn out to be giant chickens.

HAPPY CHRISTMAS! SEE YOU IN THE NEW YEAR!

Some of my Best Friends are Aliens

North Wenshire County Times
11th December 2006
'Some of my Best Friends are Aliens' claims, Jack Marshall.

The Sun
12th December 2006
'Purple Aliens Ate My Mobile' says Dave Dooney

The Times
13th December 2006
Close Encounters with Alien Rivals - Is this War?


It is not exactly comfortable in Grandpa Jack's tent but it is quite exciting. The Parents have actually let me stay with him for a whole night so that I can experience the great outdoors. I have my favourite stars and planets duvet and Grandpa has a old hairy blanket from his army days. The tent flaps are open to let out the stinky pipe smell and I have my special 360 degree beam torch with us.
'When I worked for the special ops, Wilfred,' says Grandpa Jack, 'I was privy to a great deal of secret information about aliens.' I shuffle as close as I dare to the pipe. Outside it is black as black and a breeze is making the tent flip and flap. 'You must understand that young Dexter does not know what he is dealing with...' he snorts. 'Purple blobs! Kidnap! My aliens are just like you or me or your father or...' he seems stuck.
'...or Mr Bagnall, or Mrs Trundle?'
'Yes, yes, until they turn green and push out those extra arms and start that unfortunate brain sucking thing...'
Definitely, Mrs Trundle, I think.
'Young Dexter is INVITING trouble but I think I can talk to them...persuade them that he means no harm...' He puffs furiously and scratches his stringy hair. 'Should give 'em a call...it's Christmas after all...'
I blink and realise that Grandpa Jack actually means what he is saying. I wonder how to ask him. 'Are you a bit mad, Grandpa Jack? Or do you really know some aliens?'
He looks at me all poppy eyed. 'Who do you think made this crop circle, Wilfred?'
'Not the farmer, then?'
'I knew they'd come back one day,' he says and now I don't know who he is talking to.
He shuffles forwards and sticks his head out into the night. The wind blows his hat off but he just shakes his fist at it.
'That's right! Take my hat! Call it a token of trust, my friends!'
'Um, Grandpa? There is no-one there.' He takes no notice, just keeps shouting.
'Yes, that's right - put my pipe out! Why don't you come and talk to me?'
'Um Grandpa?'
A blinkingly white light appears outside the tent. Grandpa Jack shields his eyes with his hand. 'That's it!' he cries, 'take me, not the boy!' I watch him struggle out of the tent, stand up, arms held high. The light burns his outline onto the tent wall. I shrink into my duvet. Unlike Dexter I do not fancy being captured and tortured by aliens. A grey furry hand extends into the tent. I squeak. I wait for the brain sucking to begin.This is it.
'Hello, BBC Look Northwards, you must be Wilfred?'
A human hand appears from behind the furry microphone, followed by a tall man in a puffy jacket. I nod. 'Do you mind if we just wait for the aliens with you?' He pulls a face. 'Bit cold out there!' He rummages inside a rucksack. 'Your Grandpa is speaking to the aliens right now, I believe - fancy some hot chocolate?'

This Means Alien War!

Greater Wenbury Gazette 2nd December 2007
LOCAL BOY STOPS ALIEN INVASION OF EARTH!!
Following on from numerous reports of balls of light, this reporter can exclusively reveal that local boy, Dexter Dooney, aged 9, has made contact with alien life forms. He made this sensational claim at his local school, Greater Wenbury Primary. Fellow pupils looked on in amazement as young Dexter documented the trauma and heroism of his kidnap by, 'weird looking purple blobs'.
Dexter telephoned this reporter to relate the incredible EXCLUSIVE story.

'I was walking home from school and it was dark. I had to walk because the school bus had left without me which is a bit typical. Anyway, I bought a load of sweets from Mr Patel and then walked down the High St. I got to the library and that's when I saw the spaceship. It was like a whirling plate, hovering over the road and then this ramp thing came out of a really big bright light and a purple blob waved at me. I waved back, trying to be friendly but it stuck out an arm and grabbed me. 'Course I punched it like mad but suddenly there were ten of them all blobbing round me. So I said, alright then and I went into the spaceship. They wanted to invade the earth so they tortured me for a bit but I didn't tell them anything so they said, 'you must be really really strong, we will not invade the earth.' They gave me a cup of tea and let me go. I will be talking to them again when I am ready.'

Newly qualified teacher Mr Bagnall, who was teaching the class at the time, refused to comment at first but then said, 'We did go on a trip to the Science Museum recently and I know the boys and girls have been having fun with forming their own alien club...so perhaps this is just a story, a bit of fun...and why not?!' he added.
Dexter's father, local builder, Dave Dooney(35) slammed the school for its unsympathetic attitude. 'If my son says he has been kidnapped by aliens then he has and I for one am fully behind him.' Donna Dooney (34), has kept her son away from school in protest,' it's just plain bullying,' she shouted from the front door of the family home. 'My child needs support, not negative comments! AND I shall want to know about the bus as well!'
Meanwhile the hero of the hour, the saviour of the earth, is keeping a low profile and only giving autographs after tea. His sister, Trixie (14) said, 'he's lying,' before being pulled back into the house.
No further witnesses to this fantastic event could be found. Mrs Batley from Greater Wenbury Library would only reveal that Dexter had four library books outstanding. 'They'll be a hefty fine,' she said, 'even if he did save the world.'
Dexter's friend, Tyler Watson, said he thought the aliens were probably not purple but refused to speculate on the correct colour.


I fling down the copy of the newspaper and trample into the muddy ground. I am OUTRAGED. Dexter told me nothing about this, my so-called best friend. Grandpa Jack pokes his head out from between the tent flaps.
'This means alien war!' I declare.
'Righto,' says Grandpa and he puffs at his stinky pipe. 'Righto.'