"You're all that's left, I think," the being said,
Surveying that small band, that helpless lot
Of wordless humans. One just scratched his head.
The rest just stared. "Oh, that's right, I forgot --
You don't use language anymore, poor dears!"
It held out some bananas and a hunk
Of juicy pork, to overcome their fears
But they persisted rooting through the junk
Left by their ancestors, the ones who'd made
A trash heap of their planet. "Very well,"
The being said. "The sleeping gas, then. Trade
Won't work. Go on, my partners, and please tell
Command we'll have to run another class
Through re-civlization. Hope they pass!"