Jaguar Unveils Turbine Car For The Aspiring Replicant Hunter Of 2020

Opinion is divided on whether it really is a car, or just believes it's a car

The star of the Paris Motor Show is undoubtedly Jaguar’s revolutionary X-C75 concept car, which the company says will go on the market in 2020, aimed at affluent replicant-killers who have not yet availed themselves of the chance to begin again with a new life in the off-world colonies.

The futuristic low-slung machine will be powered by a gas turbine engine, not only driving an electric motor in each wheel but also allowing vertical take-off and landing - which proud Jaguar press officers say will prove invaluable for avoiding the frequent hold-ups caused by bio-engineered pet camels, Chinese pedestrians huddling from the acid rain under neon umbrellas and freshly-executed half-naked replicants lying rigidly in the road.

Leading motoring journalists and Jeremy Clarkson drooled enviously over the windshield at the exotic Jaguar’s lavish complement of desirable accessories - such as a 3D satnav, wi-fi police intranet access with built-in webcam, the complete Vangelis oeuvre pre-installed in the inbuilt MP3 player and a handy in-dash socket for a matching LED-encrusted handgun.

The dry-ice extravaganza of the press launch was slightly marred by the lowering of the X-C75 prototype from a crane, however, as the innovative propulsion system currently only exists in the head of a marketing executive.

Nevertheless, Jaguar’s designers claim that several police forces have already expressed an interest in the revolutionary vehicle, and promised to work on the addition of downward-pointing riot gas despensers and a dashboard mounting for a Voight-Kampff device.

Scignhereologists Ridiculed By All Other Voodoo Cultists

Millions of people who believe all kinds of ridiculous voodoo rubbish were today laughing and pointing at Scignhereologists, in a national outbreak of imaginary moral superiority triggered by Cardiff councillor John Dixon’s official reprimand for calling their cod sci-fi fantasies “stupid”.

“Look at the stupid brainwashed fucktards,” chortled Teresa Leary, a speculative bricklayer from Cheam who is completely sure that she will live forever on some sort of singing cloud because a paper-thin wafer and a sip of cheap wine every week somehow means that she is ingesting portions of an invisible mind-reading carpenter from the Middle East.

“Sorry, I can’t talk about these poor, deluded fools right now,” apologised Jamal Sanjrani, a self-employed newsreader kneeling down in Rugeley, “If I don’t face in the exact direction of a big stone in Mecca then my prayers could well fly off into space, where aliens might read them and laugh at my innermost hopes and fears.”

“How, in this day and age, can anyone seriously believe that for several lifetimes it completely slipped their minds that they were the literal embodiment of some absurd mumbo-jumbo cosmic life force?” scoffed Starchild Moonflower, a government dreamcatcher from Aldermaston. “Surely by now everybody knows that the cosmic life force is in each and every one of us, and that the good karma star and the bad karma star have now been scientifically observed in a binary orbit by the Hubble telescope? It’s on the internet.”

“A’m a fucken’ witch, aye,” observed Wee Billy Bampot, a full-time drunk from Glasgow.

'Yes, UFOs Are Real,' Admits Government, 'Whatever'

The British government has finally revealed that UFOs exist and alien beings are walking among us, after classified Ministry of Defence files were published this morning.

"Yes, everything you ever read on the internet about alien craft visiting the Earth on a regular basis is true," confirmed Air Chief Marshal James Bigglesworth. "Happy now?"

According to the previously top-secret documents, alien spacecraft sightings peak every time a blockbuster sci-fi movie or TV series is shown.

"When we discovered this correlation, we thought that the extra-terrestrials might be laughing at our wildly-inaccurate speculations," suggested Britain's top pilot. "Although my chum Algy thought they were probably just lonely geeks who had never had a girlfriend."

"But when we tracked them down, we found the truth that was out there to be stranger than fiction," he continued. "They're just chavs joyriding about in nicked flying saucers. When the UFOs run out of dark matter, they're just as happy racing round council estates in ten-year-old Astras. A further search revealed it wasn't just sci-fi epics like Independence Day they were flocking to see. It's anything that the Sun tells them is 'unmissable'. If you go to the cinema today, you'll find them all slurping Coke and hooting inanely at Imagine That. That's your so-called intelligent life from other planets, for God's sake."

"They also love The Jeremy Kyle Show," he continued. "To them, it's a sort of dating show for extra-terrestrials."

To win over any remaining sceptics, ACM Bigglesworth dramatically invaded the Jeremy Kyle studio and tore the face off a slapper who had sex with 12 men a month to reveal a hideous, fork-tongued reptile-thing. His attempts to remove Jeremy Kyle's face were, however, intercepted by security staff.

Conspiracy theorists, however, have reacted with anger to the government's full and frank admission.

"Plenty of well-documented evidence exists of people not sighting UFOs," challenged multi-millionaire author Whitley Streiber. "Even in fiction, you can read the entire works of Jane Austen, Ernest Hemingway, V.S. Naipaul, Virginia Woolf, Tolstoy, E.M. Forster, Tolkien, Jeremy Archer, John Grisham, Barbara Cartland and Andy McNab and not find a single instance of alien abduction or lights in the sky flying in formation at impssible speeds."

"The question you have to ask yourselves is: why does the government want you to believe that UFOs exist?" demanded respected sports commentator David Icke. "This so-called 'evidence' is obviously a cover-up for the truth they don't want you to know, namely that it's all a load of bollocks. In the unlikely event that life exists on other planets, there's no way they could overcome the laws of physics to flit in and out of our solar system at will. And why would they want to anyway? We're too insignificant to matter."

Suggestions that the announcement was nothing more than a cynical smokescreen intended to distract people from the government's woeful mismanagement of the country were strenuously denied by Lord Mandelson.

"Look up there at that strange cigar-shaped object," he shouted, pointing skywards, before running away from reporters.

2008: A Space Filler

Tributes continue to pour in, following the untimely death of science fiction writer Arthur C Clarke yesterday.

Clarke - who cleverly predicted communication satellites, supercomputers, space shuttles, word counts, noise cancelling devices, in fact just about everything more technically advanced than a stick - died in his beloved adopted home, the permanent civil-war zone Sri Lanka, after an enormous black slab fell on him from out of the depths of space.

“Without Arthur C Clarke, intelligent computers like me would never have ERROR 403,” said a visibly-distressed Dell Laptop.

“If only we had listened to Arthur C Clarke, and designed the space shuttle to be a pointy silver thing with fins and an all-British crew,” declared NASA, “We would probably be colonising the sun by now, instead of plugging our leaky deathtraps with gaffer tape and chewing gum.”

The US President hailed the writer as a visionary and a genius. “Thanks to Alfred Dubya Clarke’s discovery of alien military satellites in orbit around planet America, I can press a button and send nuclear cruise death to anyone I like,” he claimed. “Say, fellas, shouldn’t I send missiles to the people I don’t like? Gee - I need the bathroom.”

Mr Clarke’s last words before being crushed by the huge dark monolith were: “My God, it’s full of stars.”

Immediately afterwards, the awesome block of darkness burst into a cheesy psychedelic explosion of colour, and from it stepped Jimi Hendrix, Keith Moon, Elvis Presley, Buddy Holly and Frank Sinatra, who – acting as spokesman for the group – announced that they were the intergalactic ambassadors for an alien race of super-intelligent creatures, who wished to reveal the fabulous secret of the universe to the only human being intelligent enough to use it to usher humanity into an eternal golden age of peace and understanding - the world’s leading scientific oracle, Mr Arthur C Clarke.

“Where is he?” asked Sinatra. “He must be round here some place – hey, boys, I just stepped in something…”

“Oh,” he added. “Er… I guess we’ll just be leaving, then.”