Argument: How an astronaut in a cheap, party shop beard and a spaceship dangerously like two toilet rolls duct taped together gets smashed off course by a storm of Kibble in the Constellation of Shar-Pei and crash lands on the planet Stanleynia; the strange things that befall him there, and how he doth make his return to Earth. And why he doth subsequently get chucked out of some kinda bougie, social media event.

PART ONE

I saw an ancient Astronaut
stand in line with a plate
so asked him very politely
to see his invite, mate

He whirled and fixed me furiously
with wild and wayward eye
his beard held on with string and tape
a kipper for a tie

‘There was a ship!’ the strange guest said
‘No one can deny it!’
I backed away a foot or so
as all around fell quiet

‘We blasted off from Space-X port
The crowds all cheered and whooped
– a whizz of stars, a space montage –
we landed on Venus, pooped

But coming back, tragedy struck!
We hit a shower of Kibble!
Many men died that fateful night
Our booster rockets crippled

Day after day, day after day
We stuck, no oomph nor motion
As idle as a cardboard ship
On a point of sale promotion

PART TWO

A ship hove by! Oh frightful sight!
The crew a pack of mutts
And at the door I think I saw
A lurcher going nuts

They towed us down to their planet
Hark to the tale I speak!
Every last seat was a sofa!
Every bone with a squeak!

A team of golden chihuahuas
dragged me to their leader
A scruffy old hound called Stanley
Asleep on a hairy two-seater

‘Say from where thou com’st, traveller?’
He spoke in speech most queer
(but then if you’re an alien dog
you’d sound all like Shakespeare)

‘Welcome to Stanleynia!’ he cried
‘I rule with iron paw
– the rate is just three treats a night
a double room is four’

I hardly slept in my basket
planning a quick escape
I stole a ship and up I ripped
before my guards awak’d

PART THREE

Since my return have I wandered
Press launch, party, soiree
Blagging whatever food I can score
From the all-you-can-eat buffet

And so, at this uncertain hour
My agony returns!
Until my ghastly tale is told
My gastric reflux burns!’

We bade him sit and clear his plate
But also called the bouncers
I liked the hustle but wanted muscle
To rule out further encounters