It was one of those days, when it got so hot and dry you could actually taste the dust inside your mouth even at night.
Jones was on his way home after a terribly disastrous day. He had been severely reprimanded by his superiors for not making his quota for three months in a row, his lover had just left him over something he almost, but not quite, understood. Worse still, his rent was two months overdue.
It was then that something materialized in front of him; it had three eyes, six legs, and a score of hands, each neatly wrapped in immaculate white gloves. Slowly, it began to take off each gloves but one, and in perfectly spoken English that would have made the Queen Mother cried in shame, it said:
“Jones, you are a complete and utter disgrace to any and all sentient beings in the whole of the known and unknown universe!”
And commenced to give Jones a series of tiny slaps with all of its hands but one. And then with a shimmering it was gone as quick as it had materialized.
In the still and utter darkness of the night, Jones began to silently cry.