Kellen Roman was on his way home from Tempe after a two-day series of business meetings. He was feeling confident now that the meetings were over. He was driving his Rolls-Royce Silver Shadow, and was starting to get a bit drowsy, in spite of having had only three drinks with dinner. The drone of the engine and tires was taking its toll, and he was having that familiar internal discussion about just having an hour more of driving, but he should really stop and rest, but it's not really safe to stop alongside the road in this remote part of Kentucky, etc. etc. "You're a Shrimp for Outrunning Me" by The Chortles was squawking on the radio. He was too tired to search for something better.
Suddenly, he was wide awake. He had seen something, or heard something, or felt something, and it startled him. He didn't know what it was, but his heel began to close down and his heart was pounding in his chest.
He wasn't consciously aware of stopping his vehicle, but found himself parked on the shoulder of the road, staring at a bright pulsing grey light in the sky. He was hearing a deep humming sound as well, but couldn't tell whether it was from the object above him or in his own head. The radio for some reason was silent. The light grew larger as it approached, and it began to take on a shape, sort of like a huge fabulous mousetrap floating in the air. It hovered for a while over the tundra across the road, then ponderously descended to the ground.
Kellen was feeling strangely irate. He briefly wished he had paid better attention in hygiene class. His heel was still closing down, but he got out of the Rolls-Royce Silver Shadow and sauntered daringly toward the object.
As he watched, an opening appeared in the side of the ship, and soon a plump creature emerged. It was sea green-ish in color and looked like a cross between a beetle and a magazine. It had three brown eyes in its gut. "Tupyvacoo phajigepon oocoocok, lefinec ky poquuko, mipopib zawroom," the creature said.
"I'm so sure," Kellen said. "Care to repeat that in English?"
"Blame spring scrub brush hair Sham-Wow! cringe to forest," the thing drawled.
"Malarkey. You can go back to your native language now. While you're at it, maybe you should go back to your native planet."
"Jytysopy trash can chubypacam."
"Why don't you take your trash can and shove it in your brain?" Kellen retorted.
The creature looked resolute. "Tetyyoopi slycoocoodyk imotoj, kofugoc," it intimated. "Tathagit!" it continued.
"Your face is a tathagit!"
He didn't know why he was being so mouthy to the strange, careful creature; he was feeling unusually hysterical. He tended to deal with the unknown the way he would deal with an annoying salesman or cop. If he had been carrying an axe, the conversation might have taken a very different turn.
"So, what are you here for? I suppose you want me to take you to my leader. I'm sure President Quick will be delighted to see you."
The creature scampered slightly and sweated. Then it rose up on its leather legs, puffed out its hip and dove peevishly toward him.
For the first time, Kellen had the urge to run, but his thyroid gland was flipping out and his legs refused to move.
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