The flying saucer crash-landed in the back paddock, startling a few sheep. The bedraggled alien couple traipsed up to the farmhouse and knocked on the front door.
After they got off the phone with their embassy, I took my chance. “I don’t suppose, you could, er, take a look at my, um, printer? While you’re here?”
The aliens glanced at each other and then one said, apologetically, “Our kind may be technologically advanced, but even we cannot fix printers.”
Consider this a friendly, local pub. Make yourself at home, bring your friends, have a good time! Meet new people, have a laugh, enjoy the ambience, and the Oxford commas.