The saucers only made the fifth item on the news. Coverage about the fuel queue fights and the up-coming Olympic bid were far more interesting than the fact that the aliens had spent yet another week doing nothing of any consequence. I got to work at about nine, having spent the last two hours sandwiched between life's cattle on the subway. It wasn't unbearable. It was just routinely unpleasant. I spent most of the journey listening to Carl Munce's breakfast show, trying not to laugh out loud as yet another victim fell for his prank calls...