"We're here to help you write a story, you know," pursued the other.
"Oh." Thompson brightened. "Good. Got any ideas?"
"Naturally. What would you like to write about? Romance? Adventure? Mystery? Fantasy?"
"Let's try—" Thompson pursed his lips and looked at the ceiling, "a short mystery. Something with a surprise ending that lays you out."
"Easy," said the other. "Try this."
He began narrating.
Thompson relaxed in his chair and puffed more clouds of smoke. Presently his face lit up. His eyes dilated and his pupils diminished to specks.
"Ah!" He exclaimed. He pulled his chair up to the typewriter and started typing notes, interspersing the green man's narrative with muttered exclamations.
The green man finished with an ending that sent Thompson over backwards in his chair. Thompson extricated himself and set up the chair again. "Terrific!" he said. "It'll make my fortune!"
"It will," assented the green man.