On a mission

This image, care of the Hubble telescope, shows the Cornish mission to Mars. The Cuzzins may have landed a Rover but we are going one better. We are sending a Pastie!

The mission planning has been kept very low-profile as there are many important patents pending on such devices as the drive mechanism. This is the first spacecraft launched by thongs and kept in orbit by clotted cream. Bearing in mind the experimental nature of the mission and the certainty that it is a one-way trip we had problems with manning the vehicle.

Jethro decided that what we really needed was a committed crew led by somebody of intellectual integrity and grit. A hastily laid trap plan was conceived. Four tourists were exposed to Doom Bar ale and taken to the launch site in a shuttle vehicle cunningly disguised as a VW camper van; their leader works for the motorway maintenance team on the M6, therefore satisfying the low intellectual integrity required, he certainly remains covered in grit.

Strapping the semi-comatose heroes into the cabin of "Seagull 1" took longer than expected. This was due to their demands for two curry and rice and two curry and chips suppers, to tide them over.

The launch went without a hitch, although there have been complaints from the Camborne area that many women are having to work without underwear as inexplicably every thong in the neighbourhood disappeared one dark night.

The journey is expected to take two weeks, which may cause a problem once the curry has been digested. Nothing for the ground crew to worry about. Mission control has one concern. We are unable to communicate with the crew. We can talk to them, they can "talk" back; the problem is we cannot understand them. It appears the team who scoured the campsites were unaware that Brummigan is incoherent to Cornish ears.

Further updates will be released once we have decoded the messages they are sending. Any help would be appreciated, one particularly cryptic request appears to be, "A noyce Kipper Tie." They also appeared to be singing a strange refrain which sounds like, "Ground control to Major Brum, take your protein pills and put the kettle on." Anybody who has experience with this language should contact us immediately.

Ground Control to Major Brum.