"Commander we are approaching Earth." Ensign Xyzlebeek chirped in a language much more beautiful than the one in which this is written.
"Stop there," Commander James Dean responded with a casual wave at the Universal Coordinate currently occupied by a structure known to it's inhabitants as The Rock, "and take is easy on the Inertials, this civilization is quite fragile."
"Aye aye" obeyed the newly commissioned ensign in his native tongue which coincidentally also sounded just like that.
The Granpodlian Consequator gently touched down in the tight space between Rockefeller Plaza and a generously endowed mannequin staring at the Commander's currently primary parasite, or what could in some parts of the Universe be called a spouse.
After what seemed like an eternity of "We are your friends" and "Take me to Your Leader" nonsense, Commander Dean zipped up his impervious-to-anything space suit leather jacket and met the sitting POTUS who was actually standing and looking upward a bit. Granpodlians are taller than humans and wider than they are tall.
"How much you want... for this island?" Dean spoke like a badly overdubbed film.
"You want to buy Manhattan?" The POTUS asked incredulously?
"Yeah, will you take these?" A door opened and many basketball sized diamonds, rubies, and sapphires were presented along with thousands of carefully sealed Plutonium rods.
Ensign Xyzlebeek exited the craft and positioned himself behind his Commander. He leaned over to Commander Dean and whispered, not that it mattered to any non-Granpodlian speaking human.
"You think they'll go for that junk rather than a few dozen Decentralized Space Credits?"
Commander Dean smiled and ignored the naive ensign. He presented a contract in the form of a Congressional Bill consisting of thousands of pages of microfiche sized print and encrusted with a gold seal that looked very expensive and official. The POTUS made a quick call to his Cabinet and had the bill rushed through Congress and the Senate allowing the sale of Manhattan for a treasure that would financially secure the USA for surely generations to come. The bill passed nearly unanimously with only a few outspoken detractors wildly ranting things like "it's not about the economy anymore, stupid!"
Commander Dean is an honorable Granpodlian. He made an honest deal, but he lacked patience.
"You have one Earth hour to leave my island." His smile turned into a darkly crooked smirk. "Or you will be discombobulated."
"But we can't possibly evacuate Manhattan in an hour" cried the POTUS.
Commander Dean sniffed and straightened up out of his normal nonchalant slouch. He turned his gaze from side to side to view his acquisition.
"Well, I could let you buy it back, cheap even, if you feel cheated," Dean hesitated and appeared thoughtful. "for one Decentalized Space Credit."
"But we don't have any Decentralized Space Credits."
"Pity, but all civilized planets use Decentralized Space Credits." Dean looked thoughtful again. "Tell you what, I'll let you earn that Decentralized Space Credit by working for me, deal?"
"Looks like we have no choice." The POTUS once again called for an emergency bill handed to him by Dean to be passed with one or two crazy dissenters ranting things like "I told you so" and other ridiculous nonsense.
"Your nation should be able to pay off this debt in a few hundred of your years. Of course, none of you will be allowed to leave your country or even communicate with the rest of your world until you have fulfilled your obligations, all of course subject to the regulations of space colonialism. I will personally select your working stock and sell the rest of your population to my cousin for his new interstellar restaurant chain."