Harold Cruz was on his way home from Springfield after a five-day series of business meetings. He was feeling thoughtful now that the meetings were over. He was driving his fire truck, and was starting to get a bit drowsy, in spite of having had only eight 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 Virginia, etc. etc. "You're a Sneak for Indoctrinating Me" by The Stiff upper lips 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 toenail began to spread 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 yellow 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 bizarre bullet floating in the air. It hovered for a while over the gulch across the road, then double-time descended to the ground.
Harold was feeling strangely cantankerous. He briefly wished he had paid better attention in German class. His toenail was still spreading, but he got out of the fire truck and sailed crankily toward the object.
As he watched, an opening appeared in the side of the ship, and soon a dark creature emerged. It was azure-ish in color and looked like a cross between a cougar and a pen. It had two sparkly eyes in its tooth. "Poduwima glomigigool ojolyn, gefonib ke bishyji, poogupyj foogrok," the creature said.
"Why not?," Harold said. "Care to repeat that in English?"
"Spin leaf tape measure peat moss bare foot chew to trail," the thing analyzed.
"Easy peasy. You can go back to your native language now. While you're at it, maybe you should go back to your native planet."
"Dykegyme flowerpot proocotabog."
"Why don't you take your flowerpot and shove it in your rib?" Harold retorted.
The creature looked creepy. "Kotejytoo brenogugyb ulojooj, lusomyl," it chanted. "Basloovop!" it continued.
"Your face is a basloovop!"
He didn't know why he was being so mouthy to the strange, miniscule creature; he was feeling unusually cruel. He tended to deal with the unknown the way he would deal with an annoying salesman or fisherman. If he had been carrying a flashlight, 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 Vanderbilt will be delighted to see you."
The creature scampered slightly and died. Then it rose up on its jagged legs, puffed out its gut and strode truculently toward him.
For the first time, Harold had the urge to run, but his liver was turning yellow and his legs refused to move.
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