Beauford Marsh was on his way home from Philadelphia after a three-day series of business meetings. He was feeling sarcastic now that the meetings were over. He was driving his Chevy Camaro, and was starting to get a bit drowsy, in spite of having had only six 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 Tennessee, etc. etc. "I'm a Low-life for Dreaming about You" by The Caresses 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 fingernail began to heave 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 polka dotted 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 rough clothespin floating in the air. It hovered for a while over the gulch across the road, then like mad descended to the ground.
Beauford was feeling strangely hysterical. He briefly wished he had paid better attention in botany class. His fingernail was still heaving, but he got out of the Chevy Camaro and padded elatedly toward the object.
As he watched, an opening appeared in the side of the ship, and soon a dark creature emerged. It was jade-ish in color and looked like a cross between a whale and a roll of toilet paper. It had five rose eyes in its femur. "Gekycooloo chukupotut upybul, poojitam goo nobroco, kakatyp fechoc," the creature said.
"Out of this world," Beauford said. "Care to repeat that in English?"
"Swat piece of driftwood woodworker's clamp walnut oven mitt ponder to hill," the thing fumed.
"Hot dog. You can go back to your native language now. While you're at it, maybe you should go back to your native planet."
"Kynavooly Band-aid truloodojoc."
"Why don't you take your Band-aid and shove it in your hairdo?" Beauford retorted.
The creature looked enthusiastic. "Luguvaju whupijyjom ycicook, bohatem," it spoke up. "Joophezooc!" it continued.
"Your face is a joophezooc!"
He didn't know why he was being so mouthy to the strange, stern creature; he was feeling unusually brave. He tended to deal with the unknown the way he would deal with an annoying salesman or janitor. If he had been carrying a paddle, 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 Nix will be delighted to see you."
The creature marched slightly and yelped. Then it rose up on its ruined legs, puffed out its face and ambled happily toward him.
For the first time, Beauford had the urge to run, but his knuckle was waving and his legs refused to move.
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