by Robert Williams

"What??!!" said Mick to Des.

"Let's be the first men on Mars!" said Des.

"You've come up with some stupid ideas in the past," said Mick. "But this has to be the stupidest yet!"

"Come on Mick!" exclaimed Des. "We could make history here!"

"We'll be history if we try going into space!" said Mick. "You're really getting into the realms of fantasy now. There's no way we'll get to Mars!"

Des was undeterred. "Let's go and see Mechanic Mike the Mechanic Manic Mechanic Man in the morning, and see if we can borrow his flying Mini Clubman."

So the next morning they popped along to Mike's Manic Motors.

"Hello Mike," said Des. "We want to be the first men on Mars and we were wondering if we can borrow your Mini Clubman?"

"No," said Mike. "I haven't got it any more. I had to fail its MOT. Faulty mudflaps."

"Oh dear," said Mick, sarcastically. "Looks like we can't go now. What a pity."

"But come inside," said Mike. "I have got something that may interest you."

"Not some new spark plugs," said Des.

"No, no," said Mike. They followed him into his workshop, and over to his desk. "Now, if I show you these, you promise you must not tell anyone about them!"

"Our lips are sealed," said Mick.

"Mmmm, mmmm, mmmmmm," said Des, with his lips sealed. "I mean, so are mine."

Mike opened a drawer, and took out some incredibly detailed plans of a rocket.

"Wow!" exclaimed Des. "Where did you get those from?"

"I acquired them when I went on a guided tour of NASA once," said Mike.

"You mean you nicked them," said Mick.

"I'm borrowing them on a long-term basis," said Mike. "They are top secret original plans of Apollo 11, the rocket that put man on the moon! You don't fancy flying to the moon? It isn't as far to go!"

"No, that's all been done before," said Des. "We want to be the first men on Mars!"

"He does," said Mick. "I'd rather stay at home and do the gardening."

"Borrring," said Des.

"All you need to do, is follow these plans and build your own rocket!" said Mike

"I still can't see how we can do this," said Mick.

"If you use these plans you can't possibly go wrong!" said Mike. "There's no chance of failure!"

"He's right," said Des, smiling in an annoying manner. Mick was outnumbered.

"Tell you what, I could even get some scrap metal for you!" said Mike. Just don't let anyone see these top secret plans!"

"No way," said Des. "This trip is just between the three of us! No one else must know! Especially not Clive!"

"By the way, in case you were wondering, I didn't really I steal these plans from NASA!!" said Mike.

"No, no, of course not!" laughed Mick.

"I nicked them off the Russians!" said Mike.

Meanwhile, back in Oakleigh Avenue, Dickie the Vicar and Dave Presley were paying a visit to Clive.

"Hello Clive, I was just wondering..."

"Sorry Dickie, I can't come along to your service on Sunday, I'm polishing the budgie," said Clive.

"What a pity," said Dickie. "I've got an Oasis tribute band playing live. Well, that's not quite true, I couldn't get them to come. It's actually an Oasis tribute band tribute band."

"It's me and Mike, man," said Dave.

"Anyway Clive, that wasn't what I was going to ask you," said Dickie. "I have a problem. Surbiton Amateurish Dramatics are performing their latest play at my church hall."

"SAD," said Clive.

"No, no, they're quite good actually," said Dickie. "They're performing it in order to help raise money to fix my church roof."

"Never!" exclaimed Clive.

"The problem is, one of the cast has had to pull out," said Dickie. "It's funny, as soon as he found out they had to perform it in my church hall, he didn't seem so keen."

"So you want me to step into his shoes," said Clive.

"I'd rather you just took his place," said Dickie.

"Yes, I'd quite like that," said Clive. "It's a long time since I trod the boards, but it could be fun. What play is it?"

"It's one I wrote myself," said Dickie.

"Oh dear," said Clive.

"It's called 'Men on Mars'," said Dickie. "You play an astronaut."

"I'm a Martian," said Dave.

"Don't be so hard on yourself, Dave," said Clive. "Anyway, that sounds fine to me."

"Just one other thing," said Dickie. "I wonder if you could look after the cardboard rocket we've built. It's very realistic - we built it to look like Apollo 11."

"No problem," said Clive.

Later that day, back at Mike's Manic Motors, Mike had got hold of a pile of scrap metal, and the three of them were hard at work building the rocket.

"I don't think we can do this to real size," said Des.

"No, it's an awful lot of Mini Metros," said Mike. "Scale it down, just make sure there's enough room for the both of you to fit inside."

After the first afternoon's work, they had built the base of the rocket.

"We'll carry on tomorrow," said Mike, mopping his brow.

Des and Mick headed back to Oakleigh Avenue. They received a shock as they passed Clive's house.

"Look in there!" said Des.

"Don't look in other people's houses," said Mick.

"It's only Clive's!" said Des. "Just look!"

Mick looked, and clearly visible through Clive's window was a rocket.

"I don't believe it! What does he think he's up to?!"

He marched up Clive's drive and rang the doorbell.

"Oh it's you," said Clive. "What do you want?"

"What's that rocket doing in your living room?" said Des, walking in.

"Not very much," said Clive.

"Where's it going?" asked Des.

"Mars," replied Clive. Des was outraged. He looked at the rocket.

"Made out of cardboard," he muttered. "Won't get as far as the church hall."

"What did you say there?" said Clive.

"Oh nothing, nothing," said Des. "Anyway, got to go!"

Des walked out of Clive's house.

"The cheeky monkey!" said Des to Mick. "He's not content with having his own comet! He wants to be the first man on Mars as well! Well this means war! It's the Americans versus the Russians all over again!"

"Oh no," said Mick, wearily.

The next morning, Des, Mick and Mike discussed their gameplan.

"We've got to get this thing built as quickly as possible in order to beat Clive," said Des. "Although I don't know how he's going to get to Mars in his cardboard rocket."

"I don't know how we're going to get to Mars either," said Mick.

"You always have to pour a wet blanket on everything," said Des.

"How do you pour a wet blanket?" asked Mick.

"Never mind that," said Des. "We need you to go and spy on him. You've got to find out as much as you can! Here, borrow my mobile phone, so we can remain in contact at all times."

So while Des and Mike continued nailing together sheets of metal to form their rocket, the reluctant Mick went back to his house and donned a trench coat and trilby hat, and found a notepad to take with him. He then crept across the Clive's house, where, through an open window, he could hear Clive talking on the telephone. Mick crept over to the window and hid under it.

"...yes, yes, the rocket's fine, no problems...have you got my spacesuit sorted out yet...proper ones, like the ones they used when they went to the moon..."

"Spacesuits," said Mick to himself. "We need some ourselves. Where's he getting his from?"

"...the fancy dress shop...yes, that'll do...so when do we launch it?...next Wednesday at 7.30...fine...yes, I'm studying the script...okay Dickie, I'll speak to you later..."

Mick was jotting down all these details in his notepad, none too quietly.

"What's that rustling outside the window?" said Clive to himself. "Must be next door's cat again. I'll teach it a lesson."

Mick saw Clive go away from the window, and so got out Des's mobile phone to inform the others with the latest news.

"Hello Mike? Yes, it's me," said Mick. "Apparently, he's collaborating with Dickie!"

"Dickie the vicar?!" said Mike. "Didn't think he was into space exploration!"

"And they launch next Wednesday at 7.30...aaarghhh!!"

"Mick? What's wrong?"

The phone went dead - as Mick had a bucket of water poured over him.

"That'll teach that moggie!" said Clive, grinning.

A soaked Mick went back to the garage.

"Mick!" exclaimed Des. "This is no time to be taking a shower! If they launch on Wednesday, we've only got three days to finish our rocket!"

"Anyway, while you were gone, Des had a thought," said Mike. Mick gasped.

"Yes," said Des. "I don't suppose you've thought of this, but we're going to need some spacesuits. Pop along to the fancy dress shop, see if you can get us a couple."

Mick groaned. Still soaked, he went along to the fancy dress shop.

"Greetings, sir," said the shopkeeper, a chap wearing glasses and a fez. "I didn't notice it was raining. What can I do for you?"

"I'd like two spacesuits for next Wednesday," said Mick.

"I'm sorry sir, but we've only two spacesuits, and they've both been reserved for next Wednesday. Have you tried our other branch, in Acton?"

"Acton?" said Mick. "That's miles away. I'd better let Des know."

He realised he still had Des's mobile phone in his pocket, so he rang them up.

"Des, they've run out, but they might have some in stock at their other branch in Acton. Shall we try them?"

"Mick, I'd love to drive up there, but we're too busy building our rocket," said Des on the phone. "Do you think you could make it on the bus?"

Mick, who was getting rather fed up by now, reluctantly got on the bus to Acton, which took ages, but luckily they did have two spacesuits for hire. He took the two spacesuits back on the bus, and by the time he had got back it was late afternoon, and he was exhausted.

"What time do you call this?!" exclaimed Des.

"Is that your rocket then?" said Mick. "It looks rubbish."

"Well while you've been swanning about riding on the bus all day, we've been hard at work building this thing, and it's still only half done!" said Des.

"Look, I've got your spacesuits, what more do you want?!" snapped Mick.

"Oooooh!! Get you!!!" said Mike.

"Now is there any other information you were able to get from Clive?" asked Des.

"Oh, I can't remember...hang on..." Mick consulted his notes. "He said he was studying the script. Didn't understand that bit."

"I know what he means," said Des. "He's learning what he needs to say when he steps out onto Mars. Well he needn't bother, because we're going to be first! I must write something to say when I step out onto Mars. This reminds me, we also need a Union Jack. Go out and get one, Mick."

They spent a couple more days of building the rocket and bossing Mick around. The sheets of metal were nailed together, they built an entrance hatch, put a window in, attached some steps to it, and finally painted it white with a prominent British flag.

Finally, on Wednesday morning, their contraption, a whole nine feet tall, was complete. Des and Mick walked up the steps, through the hatch and into the control room, which was four feet in diameter.

"There's not enough room to sit down," said Mick. "How long is it supposed to take to get there?"

"Goodness knows," said Des.

"This is what I call great British engineering," said Mike, as they stepped out. "It's what makes this country what it is!"

"Can I just ask one question," said Mick. "How exactly is this thing going to get into the air?"

"Oh...ummm..." said Des. Unfortunately, they had so far overlooked this point. They had just eight hours before Clive's projected launch time, so they had to act fast.

"There's only one thing for it," said Des. "Mick, pop down the shop, get us some rocket fireworks."

Mick gasped.

"Do we really have to go through with this?" said Mick at 7.15 that evening. They had transported the rocket in Des's van to his Des's back garden, and Mike had fixed rocket fireworks all round the base.

"Getting cold feet?" said Des. "It's too late now!"

"It's all these fireworks!" said Mick. "They're dangerous!"

Up to now, Mick had only been going along with it because he knew there was absolutely no chance of actually getting to Mars.

"Well there's no sign of Clive and his rocket," said Mike. "I think you've won the Tolworth space race!"

"This is a proud moment," said Des. He and Mick, wearing their space suits, walked up the steps. "Right Mick, got the flag? And the video camera? And a supply of fireworks to get us back to Earth?"

"Yes, I've got them all," sighed Mick.

"Good luck!" said Mike.

They entered the rocket, and closed the hatch.

Mike lit the fireworks, and dashed back as quickly as he could. There was a short pause before the rocket shot up high into the air and soon vanished.

"What a way to go," sighed Mike to himself.

"This is so exciting!" said Des to Mick, inside the rocket. "Look!"

Mick peered nervously out of the window and saw Tolworth rapidly falling into the distance.

"Mars, here we come!" exclaimed Des.

Meanwhile, back on earth, people were gathering at the Tolworth church hall for 'A SAD performance of 'Men on Mars', according to the posters. Inside, there was an excellent Martian set, with red material on the stage and a painted space backdrop.

"This is exciting Dave," said Clive. "My first dramatic appearance for over twenty years!"

"Yeah, great man," said Dave, who had been made up in green for his part as a martian.

Little did Clive know that the play would be somewhat more dramatic than he thought.

At 7.30 Surbiton Amateurish Dramatics launched into their performance of 'Men on Mars'. All went well for several minutes until suddenly, Des and Mick's rocket crashed through the roof, and landed on the stage.

"I don't believe it," said Mick. "I think we've actually landed. And we're still alive!"

"Didn't take as long as I'd thought," said Des. "We'd better put our helmets on. Get ready, Mick, this is going to be one of the greatest moments in history."

"Have you got the flag?" said Mick. "And your lines."

"Yup," said Des. They put their helmets on, and Des took his Union Jack and opened the hatch.

"Mick!" exclaimed Des. "I can see the Earth in the sky! It's amazing!!" He looked down. "The ground's all red! Wow, this is definitely Mars!"

He stepped out of the hatch and walked down the steps.

"Ahem," he said, stepping down onto the surface of Mars. "This is one small leap for a mankind, one giant step for..." Then he stopped.

"What's wrong, Des?" said Mick, who was just stepping out of the rocket.

"Oh my gosh!" exclaimed Des. "It's a martian! And he's eating a hamburger!!"

"Hey man, how yer doin'?" said the martian, sounding exactly like Dave Presley.

Then it got worse. An astronaut stepped in front of the martian. Des gasped.

"Oh no! We've been beaten to it!" exclaimed Des, heartbroken. "It can't be..."

The astronaut lifted up his visor to reveal Clive.

"It is!!!" exclaimed Des, lifting up his visor.

"Des!" exclaimed Clive. "I should have known! What are you playing at?!"

"What are you playing at, more like?!" exclaimed Des. "Me and Mick were supposed to be the first men on Mars, but no, you always have to be one step ahead!"

"You only had to ask Dickie if you wanted a part in the play," said Clive.

"How did you manage to get to Mars in that hopeless cardboard...what do you mean a part in the play?!" said Des.

"Oh Des, you nit!" exclaimed Mick. "Look!"

Des turned round and saw an audience looking at them. He looked up and saw a large hole in the church hall roof.

"Oh!!" exclaimed Des. "So it's not Mars after all!!"

"You don't seriously think that thing could really get us to Mars," said Mick.

"Would you two mind getting out of the way, us bunch of SAD people are trying to perform our play!" exclaimed Clive.

"Bother, bother, botherations," sighed Des, as they carried their rocket off the stage.

"Excuse me Des," said Dickie, backstage. "I do like your rocket, it's much better than mine. I think I'll be needing to stage some extra performances of our play."

"Why is that, then?" said Mick. "Has there been unprecedented demand for tickets?"

"Not quite," said Dickie. "It's just that now I need to raise funds to mend the church roof and the church hall roof as well!"

"Oh no," sighed Des. "I suppose that also means even more charity discos. If this is what happens when I try to fly to Mars, I'm definitely staying on Earth from now on!"

"Thank goodness," said Mick.

"Maybe," said Des.

Copyright © Robert Williams