Here Come The Space Girls (AKA Bints Make The Tea)

Right, are you ready for a gut-busting adventure with some woman ones? I’m not, which is why I’ve been putting it off for so long. However, this is better than playing fetch with an idiot dog who doesn’t understand the concept of ‘fetch’, which is my other option this afternoon.

Anyway. This story was found deep in the pages of the 1980 Daily Mirror Book For Girls.

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Shoes! Tea! Thrills! Fighting! Shoes! These are just none of the exciting things that await you in Here Come The Space Girls. Apart from shoes and tea, they’re in there.

Our story begins in the year 2501, in Sardinia. Presumably the publicity from Italia 90 did them some good, because now it’s the space capital of the world. In this modern, progressive society, women are no longer limited to careers like secretaries, nurses or air hostesses. Now they can be space secretaries, space nurses or space air hostesses!

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Right. Fran’s rich uncle has bought her a car. Good. Good for her. Is it possible to type and shrug at the same time? Turns out it is.

And then… DISASTER! Either they splash their captain, or they shoot fire at him. It’s hard to tell in black and white. This is OK though, because Captain Pepper is “stern”, which is shorthand for “will almost certainly fuck Fran by panel 6”. The point is that women can’t drive, not even future women.

As our plucky young heroines prepare to serve space beverages and space KP nuts on their monthly flight to Mars, we learn that the EU the World Government is meeting in London…

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“We’ve got to stop calling Mars a cunt Steve.”

“Well do you have any better ideas Ann?”

“We could try not calling them a cunt?”

Steve has a bright idea…

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nige

The World Government decides to send Lady Mary Honeybee, TV announcer and the future’s answer to Angela Rippon, to Mars. Her offerings of light hearted chit chat and some nice bath cubes will surely win the warmongering Martians over.

Why do they still have TV in the year 2501? Why isn’t TV injected straight into your brains by now? Or failing that, why isn’t everyone dead?

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The news of Lady Mary’s trip to Mars is soon front page news, but the newspaper is read by “a handful of evil men” (RIP my sides) who want a war because they are evil, and probably bored. I know I am. “If Lady Mary intervenes, we won’t get to have a war! What do?”

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Luckily, their leader (the one with the inexplicably photorealistic eyepatch) has a plan… more on that later, I assume.

Meanwhile, the space bints are hard at work, space binting. Why do they all look so… wrong?

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Head bint brings Captain Handsome a cup of coffee, because that is her space job. But oh no – someone’s poisoned the coffee, and not Captain Handsome will surely DIE! Does this mean head bint will have to pilot the ship?

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Well, no. It just means that head bint has put salt in his coffee instead of sugar, and now he is mildly annoyed.

Still waiting for something to happen in this story, lads.

“The flight was uneventful till the final night of the trip. The passengers were settling down to sleep…”

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Wait, “final night”? How long have those people had to sit in those seats? And they sleep in them as well? What if the flight’s taken weeks? Have they been wearing the same clothes all this time? This raises so many questions.

Anyway, Lady Mary’s secretary (who is presumably evil, like the evil men), slips something into her drink. I think it is going to turn out to be more serious than getting sugar and salt mixed up.

As soon as Lady Mary is out cold, the secretary and her evil colleagues carry her to the cargo hold.

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I’m going to go out on a limb and say that Lady Mary has been replaced with an evil robot Lady Mary. Just a hunch.

Meanwhile, Mars is apparently “fabulous” now, whereas before we’d been led to believe it was like space-Scunthorpe.

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Head bint is put out when Lady Mary ignores her. Not sure if this is because she’s now a robot, or because she just doesn’t like her. I don’t like her, so I’m going to go with that. stupid spoiled coffee-ruining cow.

Second in command bint finds Lady Mary’s necklace under her seat, and the girls decide to return it to her at the “Martian Palace Hotel”. That sounds to me like Mars only has one hotel. But I bet it has 100 Greggs. And a WH Smith that’s shut.

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The receptionist has no problem telling these strangers which room the at-risk VIP is staying in, proving she’s as binty as they are. I think I’ve sighed something like 397 times while writing this. Wait, 398.

Luckily for us readers, the girls arrive at the room just in time to hear a helpful and informative bad guy speech…

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“Oh no! they’ve transplanted the personality of (insert politician you don’t like, I can’t be bothered) into this Lady Mary robot!”

Am I correct in thinking they’re loading a reel of tape into her? Like a Teddy Ruxpin? What if she gets to the Martian parliament only to find someone’s recorded Atlantic 252 over her speech?

There are only three people who can stop this deadly plot. BINTS – ASSEMBLE!

The next six panels are just them getting a taxi.

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But will they get the taxi in time? And what sort of taxi will it be? And what if they forget how to make tea like I think they did earlier, or I might have imagined that bit. And what if they run out of Vagisil on the way there? It comes to something when you’ve got to think up your own cliffhangers.

As it turns out, the girls do not get the taxi in time – Robot Lady Mary is making her speech as they arrive! Unknown wherther or not they ran out of Vagisil.

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As if that wasn’t bad enough, the girls are spotted by hired goons – unsettlingly photorealistic men with huge black outlines.

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Don’t worry readers, because A) we’re nearly at the end of this load of pube, and B) something resembling a plot appears now. Sort of. Remember at the beginning when I promised you “SHOES! THRILLS! SHOES!”? This is where I keep my promises.

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Head bint takes her shoe off and – wait for it – SHE THROWS IT SO HARD AT THE MAN THAT HE DIES. She’s clearly seen Barb Wire.

(Incidentally, my friend Matt wrote some hilarious nonsense all about the majesty of Barb Wire, which you can read here.)

Ok, let’s wrap this up, because I need a piss and we have a Danny Dyer movie to watch later. Head bint bitch-slaps Robot Lady Mary out of the way, prompting the entire Martian parliament to immediately understand everything that was going on the entire time. The real Lady Mary steps up and gives what I assume is a moving and world-healing speech. I assume this because the writers kind of skipped that part. For all I know, Lady Mary could have stood up there and said “Wenger Out”.

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But we are assured that Lady Mary’s speech was a rip-roaring success, and now Mars wants to buy Earth dinner.

So the universe is saved thanks to a skilfully aimed espadrille. Hurrah. That’s all very well and good, but what about Captain Handsome? Did he fuck Fran or not?

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I don’t think he did. He seems to have the look of someone who’s just remembered what they did while off their tits the night before. Oh wait, I guess he did then.

Speaking of Fran, let’s be honest here – this story was really about Fran. Her friend got one line, and the other one might as well not have been there. This story should have been called “Here Comes Fran”.

Well, what have we learned today?

1. Never trust women to do anything.

2. All women everywhere are experts in shoes.

3. If you don’t like something, throw your shoe at it.

4. Here comes Fran.

The end.

See more from the Daily Mirror Book For Girls here.

3 thoughts on “Here Come The Space Girls (AKA Bints Make The Tea)

  1. I have always been bad at science, especially “Space Science”. Reading this adventure story, together with your comments has helped me understand interstellar travel and politics. I already understood shoes, so that part made perfect sense. I also appreciate the link to your friend Matts’ article. Cheers!

    Liked by 1 person

  2. I’ve always found it easier when people explain science to me using chocolate. Herseys, Cadbury’s
    Or even better Professor Whizzs chocolate bumpies. That guy’s a professor, so knows his science….
    Or her science there’s is every chance this professor is a lady.
    After all it’s is written: The wisest of women builds her house, but folly with her own hands tears it down.
    Perfect

    Like

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