In space, no-one can hear you scream. You’ll also be unable to eat, sleep, play the vibraphone and, most importantly, listen to any of the aural emanations of one Robbie Williams, the worst thing to come out of Stoke-on-Trent since… well, actually he is the worst thing to come out of Stoke-on-Trent.

Regrettably human ego-on-legs Robbie Williams has stunned the world of internationally famous karaoke singers by announcing his intention to meet and experience extraterrestrial life. Presumably motivated to try and find someone who hasn’t developed a deep seated loathing of the man labelled by Liam Gallagher as ‘that fat dancer off of Take That’, Williams has taken to wandering the wilds of California in the hope that he’ll experience a ‘close encounter’.

Despite insistent global calls for Williams to have a close, and repeatedly vicious, encounter with all manner of blunt, sharp, acidic and red-hot instruments, the former boy-band wailer is determined to meet alien life and has been spotted stocking up on camping and survival supplies.

Williams, who single-handedly destroyed the concept of irony by claiming a Brit Award for ‘Best single of the last 25 years’ and yet failed to mention at any point that he didn’t actually write it, has become obsessed by making first contact. “He is leading a bizarre existence at the moment, vanishing into the desert to look at stars in far-flung galaxies,” a source close to the attention-seeking narcissist claimed, “He is hooked on all things from outer space”.

Robbie, inexplicably paid over £80 million by a clinically insane EMI executive for producing what amounts to, at best, sounds that make any reasonable person want to bore a hole in their forehead with a hand-drill, was last seen on stage during his 2006 ‘Close Encounters World Tour’ which has been found to be responsible for at least 34% of the evil that afflicts our world today.

Former class-A drug user and obnoxious mentalist Williams claims to have seen UFOs on at least 3 separate occasions, spurting “I was lying on my sun lounger outside at night. Above me was a square thing that passed over my head slightly and shot off.”

Rumours that he intends to perform all new material from atop a mountain of mashed potato, covered in head to foot in tinfoil and ‘singing’ entirely in Klingon are yet to be confirmed at the time of writing.

Greg M

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