Meet Wayne Hussey - a man who's been a Boy Scout, a Sister and has "lovely legs." Susan Colón decides to accept The Mission U.K.

Just who IS this person going on about his legs and being perfect? Wayne Hussey, of course, a guy who used to be a Mormon, then became a Sister, then a missionary, then a member of swirly goth-hippie group The Mission ... But what does this have to do with his legs? Maybe we should start at the beginning.

"I was a very sweet kid," sez Wayne. "I was a good kid! I wasn't evil at all!" Really? "That's what my mother says and that's what I think. I used to go to school, I didn't used to bunk off (cut class) very often," smiles Wayne, halo aglow. "I was never a bully-I was too small to be a bully. I never got bullied either."

Wayne's parents were (and are still) devout Mormons (just like the Osmonds!), so Wayne spent a lot of his childhood in church. In fact, one of his first public performances was when Wayne, still a sweet-faced child with very short hair, played his guitar for the congregation of The Yate Church Of Jesus Christ The Latter Day Saints!

And when he was not in church, little Wayne was NOT off smoking cigarettes behind the barn (so to speak). "I used to do good deeds, stuff like that. I was a Boy Scout for about a year! I was Patrol leader by the time I was twelve, and then by the time I was thirteen I left."

Even though the guitar was always hanging in a closet somewhere in Wayne's mind, his involvement in the church was so deep that he almost became (gasp! Hint of irony) a real Missionary!

"We'd always hoped Wayne would go on a mission," says Wayne's mom, Mrs. Wendy Hussey. "When he was about 19, a year after moving to Liverpool, he called and said he'd decided to give up music and go on a mission. We were delighted! My husband, who was working in Saudi Arabia, said he'd stay out there for another year to raise the money for him, and we bought all the books. Then he came home at Christmas and changed his mind!"

What Wayne had changed his mind to was not becoming a missionary (yet) but a Sister instead. You look surprised. Well, little joke-he actually became a part of a group called The Sisters Of Mercy. The Sisters were a very dour goth-wretch band that for some reason always insisted upon being consumed in smoke during their concerts. They also inspired a fanatical devotion from a small cult which was mainly interested in The Sisters' singer, Andrew Eldritch.

"Andrew was their god, Andrew could do no wrong," remembers Wayne (who had also done some time in Dead Or Alive). "The thing that frightened me at first was that The Sisters incited that much devotion. It very much felt like an albatross (i.e. a very heavy weight no one in their right mind would want to lug around), this stigma."

Being choked by smoke and dragging albatrosses must have been too much for The Sisters, for after about five or six years they broke up. "We just got tired of playing with one another…didn’t get on anymore and we weren’t enjoying it," Wayne says, not looking too unhappy about it. "Rather than just carry on for the sake of it, we just called it quits."

Wayne, having quite a few years to go before retiring, grabbed fellow ex-Sister Craig Adams, got together with a bunch of groovies, and began The Mission. "Craig's my best friend in the world. Most times we don't even have to talk about things, we just look at each other because we know what the other's thinking. We decided to dispense with the drum machine mainly because drummers have a better sense of humor than drum machines. Mick Brown lives just around the corner from us in Leeds, so we asked him to play with us. We auditioned about 20 or 30 guitar players; Simon (Hinkler) we chose because he could speak more than one language ... plus he's got long hair, which is essential." Thus, The Mission was born!

Or should we say, The Mission U.K. was born. Why must they have the U.K. attached to their formerly streamlined name? "Because," sighs Wayne, "apparently in this great country of yours, you have ANOTHER Mission. I don't think they're any big deal," huffs Hussey, "but they have the rights to the name over here. It's like The Chameleons, there's The Chameleons U.K."

Or Wham! They used to have a "U.K." "It's not often that we get mentioned in the same breath as ‘Wham!’."

Uh oh. Ah have offended Wayne. "It doesn't bother me," he continues, referring to the "U.K." "At some point I reckon this ‘other’ Mission will just disappear and we'll have the rights to the name. That's our plan-KI LL THEM OFF!"

So much for the man who used to be a Mormon and now calls himself a "goppie" (a cross between a gothic and a hippie). This weirdo mix was thrown into the cauldron along with howling, galloping guitars and, with candles lit in the studio, The Mission (U.K.) created "God's Own Medicine." It's a pretty mystical album with a rather heavy statement in the beginning; "I still believe in God;" Wayne intones, "but God no longer believes in me." Subtle! What can he mean?

"I think a lot of people take it too seriously, too literally," Wayne insists. "It's meant to be very tongue-in-cheek. We're very tongue-in-cheek about what we do. Seriously!"

Is Wayne also serious about the way he describes himself? Aside from having "lovely" legs and being "perfect," how does Wayne describe Wayne in one word? "God-like," he smiles broadly. "I like the fact that you can play god sometimes. AGAIN," he leaps, "that’s NOT meant to be taken seriously!"

The funny thing is, you really don't mind Wayne's boasting. He is actually very self-effacing (referring to himself as a "piss-artist") and terribly sincere. And, as he puts it, "You shouldn't believe everything you hear and read."

Shouldn't believe everything I write either.

"And you shouldn't believe everything I say."