Joe Chip, our roving reporter on the numinous and the strange, has been imprisoned for six months on charges of being a nuisance and disturbing her Majesty's peace. We recently received the following letter from Mr Chip, written on standard prison-issue paper:

Dear comrades at Prescience,

It seems I have been imprisoned for merely carrying out some unusual psychological experimentation, experimentation which I believed to be radical and worthy of pursuit. You see, a few weeks ago I became interested in verifying reports that an extraterrestrial craft had landed in the village Bilgington-upon-sea on the English south coast and that all the residents of this village had been infiltrated by an alien mind virus. I therefore decided to visit Bilgington in order to ascertain whether these rumours bore any semblance of truth.

I left on a train from Paddington. However, having been in somewhat of a rush, I forgot to bring some cash along and boarded the train without purchasing a ticket. It was whilst the train journey began that a certain idea for a controversial psychological experiment occurred to me. In order to avoid incurring a fine for having no ticket, I wondered if perhaps I could write some message on a piece of card and show this to the ticket inspector so as to avoid any efforts on his part to fine me. I figured that there must be some sequence of words that would have a precise effect upon any given ticket inspector such that, having read the message, they would likely walk off and leave me in peace.

The first message I drew up read as follows:

DEAR TICKET INSPECTOR - I AM ARMED WITH A GUN. BUT SINCE I WISH FOR NO TROUBLE, PLEASE RETURN THIS CARD TO ME AND MOVE ON.

Contemplating this first attempt, I figured it was too mild and polite and so revised it in the following way:

INSPECTOR - READ THIS CAREFULLY AND DO NOT GLANCE AROUND. I HAVE A POWERFUL SEMI-AUTOMATIC GUN UPON MY PERSON AND WILL SHOOT YOU UNLESS YOU HAND BACK THIS CARD TO ME AND THEN CONTINUE ON YOUR BUSINESS AS IF NOTHING HAD HAPPENED.

Having thought about the possible effect this would have upon the psyche of any given ticket inspector, I finalised the message as follows:

INSPECTOR - IN NO WAY AM I GOING TO PURCHASE A TICKET OR BE FINED. TO ENSURE THIS, BE WARNED THAT I AM ARMED WITH A GUN WHICH I WILL USE ON YOU IF YOU ATTEMPT TO TAKE THIS MATTER FURTHER. THEREFORE, IN THE INTERESTS OF YOUR SAFETY, SIMPLY HAND THIS CARD BACK TO ME AND BE ON YOUR WAY AS IF NOTHING WAS AMISS.

I figured this would do the trick. When, at last, the ticket inspector entered my carriage, I prepared to hand him the card. However, I had not banked upon this man being well versed in the art of Ju Jitsu. After reading the message, the inspector promptly grabbed me in a neck-hold and called for assistance. My experiment in predictable human psychology had failed.

Prison life is hellish. I understand that I shall be released soon though. It only remains for me to make my time here as interesting as possible. Indeed, I might take the opportunity to interview a certain Harry the Bastard, an ex-organised crime leader and fellow inmate who swears that fully half of all the paper money in the United Kingdom is forged. Until my release, this is Joe Chip saying farewell.