"What are you doing in Lilliput?"
Matthew is standing on your nose, not that it's much of a problem to you, as he is less than half an inch high. Yet you can hear him, thanks to a loudspeaker he has.
"I was just looking around," you answer. The idea of curiosity killing the cat goes through your head as you try to get up again and break your bonds, to no avail. "Hey..." You raise your head a little, forcing Matthew to hold on tight to your nose as you see just why. You aren't tied up by regular ropes. In fact it looks like you're strapped down to the beach by dozens of little glowing laser-like threads.
"This is a precaution for everybody's safety," he says. "We'll let you go once the beach is evacuated and we're sure you won't go on some rampage like Godzilla."
A smirk in a sly, seductive fashion at his comment. "Why, what makes you think I'll go crazy like Godzilla?"
"You're not the first Brobby to wind up here, you know." A small disc floats up to Matthew from somewhere, and he steps off your nose and onto it, presumably so he can talk better. "We've been having attacks for the past 30 years, it's a periodical thing. Once every few months, a wormhole opens up, and a Brobby lands somewhere on one of our islands. There were a few nice ones, sure, but the majority of your type tend to lord it over."
You think to yourself, and recall watching stuff on the news about some missing person stories. You didn't expect a lot of them to end up here, though. "Where are they now?"
"Much as we like to keep control of the situation and minimise losses, they're not always cooperative. While most of the bad ones, we manage to seal up and send back out - with some vague idea that they had a weird dream - and the nice ones always go back by themselves with a promise to keep it secret, some real nasty characters just take things too far and we're forced to put them down."
You laugh at that, as more tiny people drive away and strange helicopters fly in. "Put them down?" you say in a condescending tone, "Like you can."
Matthew doesn't seem to have your sense of humour. "Please don't underestimate us, Miss. With 30 years of experience, we know very well how to put down a Brobby. As you can see, you can't even stand if you tried. Go ahead. Feel free to give it another shot."
"You're serious?"
"Dead serious."
With all your strength, you try to sit up and free yourself from the strange glowing cables, but with the exact same results as the last two times. They hold as if they were made of some indestructible material.
"Okay, I get it. I've got to behave if I want to go free."
Matthew smiles and nods. "Good. Now then, do you promise to do so until we can send you home?"
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