First Contact

You are Anon, a lonely corn farmer in western Nebraska. You moved out here to be alone but soon came to regret the decision when the inability to express your feelings to another human being began to really weigh down on you. Back in the city you struggled with social situations and could never keep a friendship going on for long but at least you typically had a shoulder to cry on. Now? You're an emotional wreck. You thought being out here would harden you, make you more independent, but you were wrong. Last month you broke your favorite coffee mug and you still sulk about it sometimes. You've began to secretly cherish the days when the shipping crew come to take your haul to processing and they don't even speak English. You haven't felt the gentle touch of a woman, not even your own mother, all damn year. This is too much, the isolation is tearing you apart!
...
As you lay in bed, staring into the ceiling and screaming internally, a light shines into your window. Strange, why would someone be driving around in your corn field? Are they drunks? Corn thieves? Confused, you scrape yourself up and take a look outside.
"Now I know I'm going mad," you think to yourself as you squint at what looks to be some sort of flying saucer, parked in your crops. Still shining brightly, the hallucination doesn't seem to yield to your acknowledgement.
Part of the wall of the spacecraft cracks open and slowly lowers to the ground, revealing a handful of humanoid creatures.
"Handful" may be an accurate estimate - they're the shrimpiest little folks you've ever seen! Each of the dozen or so little purple creatures are no taller than a corncob!
Well, Anon, if you're going insane then you may as well indulge a little. Time for some long-overdue socialization.
You head out the door and approach