Space man

It was not like any court I had appeared in before. The judge sat (at least I think he was sitting '“ if he was a 'he' or a 'she' or even some gender previously not known to me) raised above us all. Even though he looked like a giant octopus and had at least three eyes I am sure he was a judge because he had an impressive wig on his head.

He busied himself with dealing with various administrative matters. He had so many tentacles that this appeared to be an easy task. Perhaps the judge was really 'she' because there was a considerable amount of multitasking '“ sorting out what appeared to be documents, completing forms, pressing buttons on a giant console and making noises into what I took to be some sort of telephone.

I and several obese people, a small dog, a hedgehog and an unhappy goldfish in a polythene bag stood in the well of the court. We had all come here by the same route. I think there were more of us. I am sure I saw a horse and wasn't that the chairman of the local parish council who joined us after the people from the trailer park '“ and the butterfly?

It was my fault really. I had been looking at one of those forms that are sent out to worry solicitors (as if we did not have enough to worry about already). It was a business continuity checklist. That sounds innocuous but what it really meant was for us each to say how we would be able to carry on calmly doing the things that calm solicitors do when the sea water is up to the eaves, or when an earthquake of 8.1 on the Richter scale has razed the house.

We have to demonstrate that as the flames are licking around us we will continue to be able to dictate on our fire-proof dictating machines and pore over files that are filled with flame retardant paper and key in our all-important time recording units onto computer hard drives that can still operate from two miles under the sea or in the kind of heat that melts pig iron.

There is dying too to contend with. Our house is reputed to be haunted, so I presume I will be able to join the other spectres and haunt the NHSLA into paying up for my deserving clients.

Against the business continuity criteria my idea that I could keep my life's work on a portable hard drive in my pocket seemed to be a solution of sorts.

Taking a break from form filling I made the mistake of watching one of the TV programmes that prove that we have aliens living among us and that governments are covering up the truth. There was a time when these aliens concentrated their efforts on the inhabitants of US trailer parks but there has been a worrying shift recently: owners and drivers of UFOs, no doubt tiring of the limited conversational abilities of trailer park occupants (no disrespect '“ at the rate the fortunes of ordinary solicitors are going many of us will soon be welcoming the chance to live in a trailer park) are seeking more variety in the humans they choose to kidnap.

Now respectable airline pilots, bank clerks, nurses and policemen are all reporting sightings of saucer shaped objects which fly at impossible speeds and appear and disappear in an instant.