Mad bloke: made noises with his tongue to describe shapes. Walked away with the uncomfortable impression that he was performing a precised magic routine to keep the idiot (me) amused. When I look back, the inanity of my questioning deserved nothing more.

But now I have my revenge, Chris. You have covered a car in cloth, and I have my proof - you were not born here, but inserted by a distant race of greys.

Those noises you made with your tongue were not the manifestations of artistic flair; you were telling me to bugger off in your native tongue.