The Banquet

Today's subject is "Food," and the theme is "clip." Clip what? Clip like what you do to your fingernails, or clip like a short piece of cinemagraphic art? Clip like the thing you use to fix your name tag to your shirt, or clipped like a short, sharp tone of voice? I don't know. Let's find out.
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The man waiting at the door was wearing a tuxedo. Not just a fancy suit - it was a tuxedo. He took their tickets, checked off their names on an official-looking list, then bowed to them as he opened the door. The girls traded surprised, nervous looks.

"I suddenly feel under-dressed," whispered Hannah, stealing a glance back at the doorman as they stepped in. "I mean..."

"I know what you mean," muttered Rachel, and tucked her jacket to straighten it out a little.
Sure, she was wearing a skirt, but it wasn't a fancy skirt. It was just a knee-length purple thing she'd made on her sewing machine last year. Hannah was worse off, because she was wearing jeans. Nice jeans, but they were jeans and the man at the door had been wearing a tuxedo. A tuxedo could make anyone feel under-dressed.

They both felt a little bit better when they walked into the dining hall (it was far too big to be a "room," so it was definitely a hall) and saw that the majority of the other guests had also missed the memo that said it was a suit-and-tie affair. Most of them wore nice-ish everyday clothes. There were only one or two couples scattered here and there that wore nicer things. An evening gown. A suit. A military uniform.

Just then, the crowd, about forty in all, was milling around the room, speaking with one another in low voices and listening to the soothing elevator music playing in the background. Before Hannah and Rachel could really do more than exchange another look and step toward the empty table before a man in a tuxedo - the same one that had met them at the door - stepped up onto a podium near the end of the hall and lifted a microphone to his lips.

"Ladies and gentlemen!" The speakers, hidden around the room, magnified his voice so all conversations died away and eyes turned toward him. The lights dimmed a little so the brightest light shone on the speaker, who was smiling out at the crowd. "First of all, I want to thank you all for coming. Your willingness and generosity is truly exemplary." He paused to smile around at them again, and Hannah glanced at her friend with a startled expression.

"Generosity?" she mouthed, eyebrows raised questioningly. Rachel shrugged. Their tickets had been given to them by a friend. Maybe the others had paid for theirs? But when she looked around at their fellows in the crowd, many of them looked puzzled as well.

"I do hope you will enjoy your stay with us, however short it may be," continued the man in the tuxedo. His words were making less and less sense. The audience began to shift restlessly. "Now, would you please join me in a round of applause for our host, the man who made it all happen, the founder of Companions Intergalactic, the President of the Universe!" He gestured broadly and bowed, offering the microphone to the figure striding out of a side door onto the podium.

The figure walked on four legs, and had a third pair of limbs - not really arms. More like a bat's wings. Taking the microphone in one curved claw, the figure lifted the instrument to its mouth as the crowd shifted uncertainly, and several of them took a step back toward the door.

"Your generosity is really more than we ever expected, and for this, I thank you. Your people will be well-represented at the banquet. I wish to extend the thanks of the Companions, the Universe, and myself as well. We are all indebted to you." The figure made a contortion that might have looked like a bow on a human. But it wasn't human. The man in the tuxedo applauded enthusiastically, and alone. After a moment, a few people joined in, but the applause was halfhearted at best.

The floor began to vibrate, and the applause stopped immediately. Someone screamed. Someone ran for the door - it might have been the same person that screamed. It was hard to tell. But the doors were locked. The vibrations in the floor increased, and a feeling like being in an elevator made the crowd sway. Some staggered. They were moving upward. The soothing music started to play again as the man in the tuxedo took the microphone from the President of the Universe.

"Please take your seats. Once we have breached the atmosphere, your meal will be served."