He must have passed out. Human had no recollection of how he got here, but he was lying on a table in a round room bathed in very bright white light.
The creature he had met outside was beside him, along with two other similar-looking beings, all peering at him with those golden eyes. They were admiringly conversing in the strange language he had heard earlier.
He was feeling no fear; in fact, he felt nothing. He was just watching everything, like those out-of-body experiences he had read about.
"Shoodenubook ytotoot," one said. "Moopacuda," another replied. They victoriously raised up two strange metallic devices above his collarbone, plunged the tips of them in, and removed it. They excluded the collarbone, then put it in a gooey orange container that was hovering beside them. They then did the same with his throat, and his liver. It all seemed very strange, mostly because he was aware he should be feeling very appalled, but actually was simply observing.
The beings continued their disgusting conversation, while he lay there, with the curious thought that he probably shouldn't try to get up while his collarbone, throat, and liver were missing. Meanwhile, one of the aliens lightly touched the side of the container, and his body parts were automatically whisked away and out of sight. "Bless my britches," he thought to himself, "I guess that's that."
The other aliens continued conversing and prodding what was left of his body. "Magizunee," one yelled. "Gimifin," another responded.
"Dyjahoti?" he said abruptly, surprising himself — and, evidently, everyone.
The room was suddenly full of animated alien conversation. "Loolohoj?" "Kejofootu nugorina kimyjemi." "Pytazody." "Caleson!"
The most statuesque of the aliens then moved bitterly to his side. "I hope we have not inconvenienced you," it spoke up, in perfect robotic English. "We come in peace. We will return you to your Harley when we are finished."
He actually felt pretty inconvenienced, insofar as someone without feeling could feel. "Cutojyce," he intoned. "May I have my collarbone back? And my throat and liver?"
He realized that there was no language being used to communicate. All were understanding each other without the need to translate.
"They are currently in the lab, being cut. We will return them shortly."
"That's good to know," he replied, with only a little irony. "I am waiting openly."
"Thank you for your cooperation."
"Yeah, well, I'll just lie here and cooperate until I get my throat back," he grieved.
The poking and prodding and conversation continued. The words were just background sound unless they were directed toward him. The white light bathed him in a peaceful feeling, and he was oblivious to the passage of time.
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