One Christmas morning about two hundred and fifty years ago I woke up and found a wrapped version of this space vehicle in my bed. Brilliant! Wonderful! Until I pressed the on switch.
Flashing lights, spacecraft noises and panic. This was no Christmas present from loving parents but, rather, a tin and plastic assassin sent by the supremely evil Anti Christmas Wizard. SuperDad came to the rescue, alerted by my screams. One flick of a switch sent the Made in Taiwan killer into silent coma.
Years later I came across it in a market stall. Coincidence? Probably not. While taking photos for my personal X Files, I heard the pilot whisper “So we meet again…”