PROMPT: The bank is pushing you to confess where all your gold came from. You didn't do anything illegal, but you're sure they won't believe the truth, so you have to come up with a great lie.

...which is challenging, given your limited understanding of Earth languages and inflection.

"I..." you begin. Earthlings in this quadrant of the planet begin sentences with a subject. Subject and then verb. You remember this from your first lesson and watch as your captors lean in, rapt. "Found..."

The largest captor pounds the table. "Cut to the chase! How'd you do it?"

The truth is, back on Goldulon, such metals are worthless in their abundance. But would these humans believe you? Do they even know you come from a land beyond their sky? You clear your vocalization tubes. "A..." you continue. Article after verb. Then noun.

"He's stringing us along," another captor says. "Anybody want a coffee?"

"...gun?" you add.

They don't seem to like this word. You were never good with nouns.

"You found a what?" the largest one asks.

"And..." you continue. Persist, your teacher used to say. Persist, and you shall become confident. "...killed?"

You can smell the humans' stress pheromones. Something about that last word was not good. Persist. Try again. Find a new word. "Killed?"

One of the humans appears to crack his knuckular appendages.

"The..." You remember the long summers of your youth in the meadows of Goldulon. You need to appeal to these humans' highest authority--to win them back with an invocation of the most supreme title you can conjure. "...senator?" you venture.

Judging by their pheromones, this is going to get worse before it gets better.

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