"No thank you, Admiral, I prefer English breakfast if you have it."

The Admiral grunted: "Let it be so." A cup of English Breakfast tea appeared. "Now can you explain why you sent that distress call. The Federation has had its curiosity somewhat piqued. We don't often get requests from Gaians."

The green man smiled."We have been at odds for some time, it is true. You techno-idiots with your inveterate vertebrate bias, your pseudo-American Federation with its necessary enemies that you yourselves have created thanks to your arrogant blundering, your Intergalactic Bank which is underdeveloping the margins of the universe for your own disgusting purposes, and your dismal clothes sense."

"Please," the Admiral replied. "I once spent a week on Chomsky-7, and that was enough for one lifetime. Get to the point."

The green man smiled more broadly, revealing a disconcerting set of green teeth. "As you know, following the grim terra-rist wars in what was left of the Earth in the 21st century, the ruins of the planet were sold to Macrosoft DisneyMart, and those who would not become salespeople were given the choice of being either exterminated or killed, depending on their preference."

There was a sudden explosion.

"Excuse me briefly," said the Admiral, "I think I should go up on the bridge. But finish your tea. We can finish the exposition later."

He left the room. The green man shrugged, and began a conversation concerning recent developments in complexity theory with a pot of geraniums mostly named Daisy sitting on a nearby table.