A few years ago I was working the graveyard shift in the Base Communications Center at Dyess AFB in Texas. It had been a slow work night and all the work was caught up. I pulled out a diskette containing a science fiction book I was writing. 

As it happened I was working on the bad guys of the book. They were very humanoid so I needed something to make them stand out. I had made them shorter and stockier than the average human. Still I needed more separation. I dressed them in black and red leather, but that still wasn't enough. 

Just then a message came over the computer sitting by the door with a continuous beeping sound. When I turned to take care of the message I saw Chris Rouse, my co-worker, was already taking care of it. I turned back to my computer and began rubbing my heavy beard. Without thinking I began to twist my beard, losing contact with my surroundings. 

"Doc!" Chris's voice came through the cloud of thoughts. 

I turned to face him again. He was laughing with a big grin on his face. "Quit twisting your beard. You'll get it all tied up in knots!" 

That was the spark I needed. For the next five minutes I sat there telling Chris about a ____(race, group, clan, or nation--you pick the word) of people whose only recorded language was knots tied in ropes, leather straps, and (yes) even their hair. 

When I finished Chris just sat there with a blank look on his face. Finally he said. "You made that up." as if challenging me to deny it. 

"Of course I made it up," I laughed, "that's what I do." 

Chris sat there shaking his head slowly. "Damn good story." was all he would say. 

I learned I had a race of people for my book. I also learned that being the bad guy is just a point of view. My bad guys had a history that was 'knot' all bad. 

The next day I retold the story to my wife. Then a few months later when my wife's sister was visiting she made me tell her. When Jack came visiting from Montgomery Alabama, I told him. With each telling there came new twists and plot lines. Mostly it was bad puns that kept the story going. 

Since that time, Chris has moved back to the Carolinas, and the story has been told hundreds of times. Each time a little different. Jack convinced me to write down the story. My wife convinced me to try and get it published (no magazine I tried would touch it). I still have fun just telling the folk tale from another planet. 

I hope you enjoyed the story half as much as I enjoyed telling it.