"Holy cow!", says top space scientist Neogeo Yaw. "Ham the Chimpanzee's Space Diary just fell on my head! It must have been up there for years, and it finally fell back down again. Just like Arthur C Clarke predicted it would! It didn't burn up in the atmosphere because it was raining, in case you were wondering."

Ham the Chimpanzee's Space Diary

Hello, Ham here! In the 1950s! Happy Days. After Bilbo Baggins' colon exploded because of all the barium, I'm officially going to be spacechimp. The other chimps clapped me on the back and tried to look happy for me, but it's hard to tell with those guys - they grin when they're angry and look fed up when they're actually stimulating themselves with a leaf. Us chimps are crazy!

* * *

Stupid press conference. Asked if being spacechimp had always been my ambition. "Matter of fact" I say, winking, "My real ambition has always been make love to a French woman like Charlotte Rampling. Tell me, gentlemen of the press, does bashing their childrens' heads to bits against a tree get human ladies as aroused as it does chimp ladies?" And for some reason that was that! Bob Gilruth, the head of NASA, suddenly says I'm very tired from all the testing and that the press conference was over! But I had lots more to say about space.

* * *

Sonny Moriea comes in with my spacesuit. "Hi, I'm Sonny Moriea" he says, like we don't already know that! He's a buffoon, and he wanted to build an aloominum rocket, powered by aloominum gas, but eventually we persuaded him to knit me a tiny aloominum spacesuit instead. It consists of a little aloominum fez and a little aloominum waistcoat. Initially I think it looks daft, but I'm reassured that all the astronauts will be wearing something similar.

"I am Ham the chimp. I am dressed nicer than any pimp"

* * *

More delays! What are these NASA fucknuckles playing at? The two sections of the spacerocket won't fit together. Turns out one half of NASA have been measuring the size of the rocket in metric, and the other half with the more standard 'number of British red double-decker buses balanced on top of each other' method. And they call us monkeys!

* * *

Finally in the idiot spaceship. When I get back, I'm going to expect more than those banana pills as a reward. Got my heart set on a Corvette and some fast looking shoes, maybe winklepickers. I've been sitting up here hours, and they still haven't got things going. So I start singing a little tune to pass the time.

"I am in project Mercury, but I am not going to Mercury, for some reason, I'm just going to space, la-di-la."

Then I admire my reflection in the window. And sing a bit more.

"I am Ham the chimp. I am dressed nicer than any pimp." See, I'm pretty good at songs, as well as space.

* * *

I'm having a nice daydream about commercial endorsements and bananas, when Werner Von Braun rudely interrupts on the intercom. He's one of those clever Germans who used to design bad rockets, but now helps make good rockets. "Hello Ham - how are you doing?" he asks in his thick Nazi accent. He's trying to sound relaxed, but I can tell that something is amiss.

I switch communication channels. "Hello, Capcom? Can you check..." I ask on a hunch, "...where this rocket is pointed at?" Sure enough! You know what they say about Nazi's not changing their spots? Turns out Werner has got the rocket pointed straight at Buckingham Palace, England! A few minutes later and it's back pointing at space instead.

"Sorry about that, Ham" says Werner, sounding a bit sheepish, "Old habits..."

* * *

I can hear the booster rockets igniting, and there's a huge rumble. G-forces start to push me back into my seat, and the whole ship starts to shake. Out the tiny window I can see the blue sky slowly turning to an inky black - and at that moment, shooting into space, with the whole world watching, it dawns on me... I could have any woman I wanted! Right at this moment, ANY of them would go with me! If only I wasn't stuck in this stupid capsule, eh?

* * *

Half way through the second orbit it hits me - the funniest jape ever! When those NASA whitecoats come to open up the capsule, I'm going to pull a G-Force face, like what Chevy Chase does in Spies Like Us. They'll think I've stuck like that! I'll talk through gritted teeth and have my hair brushed back and everything! "This is Capcom 1, Mercury Seven. Please verify position of landing bag switch. Is switch in 'off' position?" I can't even reply, I'm laughing so much at the thought of my impending fine face gag!

"Clever Ham!"