carpet, and I got on the settee, and I didn’t know how long I was there. Ooh! I was dead!” (Budden, 1988). She lay incapacitated until five o’clock that afternoon. Finally, her strength was sufficiently restored so that she was able to phone her husband, a neighbor, and the police. Investigators found an oval-shaped impression in the backyard snow. Hingley complained that her clock, radio, and television were no longer functioning. The cassette tapes that she said the beings had touched were ruined. She suffered a range of physical discomforts in her eyes, ears, and jaw. Her doctor became alarmed enough about her well-being that he ordered her to stay home from work for two weeks. As outlandish as her story sounded, investigators did not doubt her sincerity. See Also: Close encounters of the third kind Further Reading Budden, Alfred, 1988. “The Mince-Pie Martians: The Rowley Regis Case.” Fortean Times 50 (Summer): 40–44.
Miniature pilots One day in 1929, according to a story she told many years later, a five-year-old girl and her eight-year-old brother were playing in the garden of their Hertford, Hertfordshire, England, home when they heard an engine sound. It was coming from a nearby orchard and over the garden fence. As its source came into view, the children saw a tiny biplane, with a wingspan of no more than twelve to fifteen inches, descend and land briefly by a garbage pail. During the few seconds that it was on the ground, both children got a clear view of a figure they described as a “perfectly proportioned tiny pilot wearing a leather flying helmet,” who they said, “waved to us as he took off.” The sight so unsettled the two that it wasn’t until they were well into their adult lives, around 1960, that they spoke of it to each other. “I have no explanation to offer,” the woman said, “but I do know that this was not
a figment of my imagination” (Creighton, 1970). In a UFO-age counterpart to this strange story, a Seattle woman reported that around 2 A.M. one night in late August 1965 she awoke paralyzed. Unable to speak or move, she watched helplessly as a football-shaped gray object sailed through her open window and hovered over a carpet in her bedroom. As the tiny UFO prepared to land, three tripod legs dropped from it. Once settled on the floor, the UFO let out a ramp, down which stepped five or six miniature beings clad in tight-fitting uniforms. They then engaged in what appeared to be repair work on their craft. On completing the job, they walked up the ramp and into the ship and flew away. At that point, the witness found that she had regained normal mobility. It seems likely that this second incident was a hallucination of a kind frequently associated with sleep paralysis. Further Reading Creighton, Gordon, 1970. “A Weird Case from the Past.” Flying Saucer Review 16, 4 (July/August): 30. Hufford, David J., 1982. The Terror That Comes in the Night: An Experience-Centered Study of Super natural Assault Traditions. Philadelphia, PA: University of Pennsylvania Press. Keel, John A., 1970. UFOs: Operation Trojan Horse. New York: G. P. Putnam’s Sons.
Monka Monka first surfaced as the disembodied voice of a Martian on a tape owned by contactee Dick Miller. Miller played the message at the April 1956 Giant Rock Interplanetary Spacecraft Convention, telling the audience that the voice had mysteriously appeared on a tape inside a sealed can. The message had Monka (“I am what you would call the head of my government”) promising, “On the evening of November 7, of this your year 1956, at 10:30 P.M. your local time, we request that one of your communications stations remove its carrier signal from the air for two minutes” (“Mon-Ka of Mars,” 1956). From ten thou-