Well, I was watching Cranium feed goats to the ventilator down by the swimming pool when I saw it. It was big, long, green, and shiny. Some aliens got out and offered me a Lexus if I would show them how to grate cheese. Naturally, I called up the Cheesemeister right away. You never know with those aliens.
The Cheesemeister referred me to the Bureau of Squat Buildings, which can only be reached by earthworm, so I put the aliens up in a Motel Six for the night, saddled up "Jimmy", and sped over there. They had banners up, and bunting, and flavored jamborees, and it looked like they were expecting a VIP. I went to the number machine and pulled a ticket. I had gotten "roast pork", so I knew I was going to have a while to wait, and I unpacked my formal platitudes kit and was having a real jolly time when a limousine decorated with scary mouse faces pulled up.
And then, to my great wonderment, I saw the Committee Man emerge, gladhanding people and kissing babies and waving, and managing this despite the complete lack of crowds. I was impressed. I observed a certain something in his trousers - was that a stick of dynamite, or was he just happy to see me? It turned out to be dynamite, and more than just a stick, to be sure. The civil servants, lined up outside the Bureau, donned their tribal headgear and waited patiently as they were wired up and destroyed. I returned to the aliens, greatly saddened by events, to give them the bad news - their planet would remain a slave to non-grated cheese.