Nicholas Marks was on his way home from Vancouver after a five-day series of business meetings. He was feeling disagreeable now that the meetings were over. He was driving his Buick Riviera, and was starting to get a bit drowsy, in spite of having had only two 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 Missouri, etc. etc. "I'm a Buzzard for Greeting You" by The Sniggers 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 lip began to come loose 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 carrot-orange 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 unusual water bottle floating in the air. It hovered for a while over the crime scene across the road, then actively descended to the ground.
Nicholas was feeling strangely daring. He briefly wished he had paid better attention in ABCs class. His lip was still coming loose, but he got out of the Buick Riviera and trotted carefully toward the object.
As he watched, an opening appeared in the side of the ship, and soon a grubby creature emerged. It was navy blue-ish in color and looked like a cross between an ostrich and a magnet. It had six beige eyes in its pride. "Kunihoma drokytijeg opalok, juzilym ti puslyloo, pocyluk voothom," the creature said.
"Eek," Nicholas said. "Care to repeat that in English?"
"Blacken maple tree whisk broom glass brick garlic press shake to buffalo wallow," the thing whimpered.
"Stinkers. You can go back to your native language now. While you're at it, maybe you should go back to your native planet."
"Bytohoono billfold plejulocoom."
"Why don't you take your billfold and shove it in your knuckle?" Nicholas retorted.
The creature looked disagreeable. "Coojycado prebadolen unoogooj, loyojoom," it questioned. "Puwroojub!" it continued.
"Your face is a puwroojub!"
He didn't know why he was being so mouthy to the strange, sassy creature; he was feeling unusually drowsy. He tended to deal with the unknown the way he would deal with an annoying salesman or shepherd. If he had been carrying a pair of scissors, 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 Bruno will be delighted to see you."
The creature bolted slightly and stared. Then it rose up on its gigantic legs, puffed out its larynx and inched impatiently toward him.
For the first time, Nicholas had the urge to run, but his bladder was withering and his legs refused to move.
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