There’s a flying saucer parked in my backyard. (I know what flying saucers are; I watch TV.) Most of the time it’s just hiding under a green cover. I sleep on it sometimes, or use it as a half-way step between the ground and the back of the garage roof.
Occasionally the cover comes off and it fires up. Then, Mr B opens it and pokes about inside it with special tools and people come around to watch. He hasn’t got it flying yet but it gets pretty hot. I like sitting underneath where it’s warm, even though the exhaust smokes a bit (which is probably why it hasn’t been able to power itself back into space).
Conditions on board must be really horrific, because I usually (eventually) get fed bits of charred alien.
They taste remarkably like sausages and cooked chicken.
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