Pablo Welles was on his way home from Augusta after a five-day series of business meetings. He was feeling somber now that the meetings were over. He was driving his canoe, and was starting to get a bit drowsy, in spite of having had only eleven 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 Florida, etc. etc. "I'm a Crazy person for Deceiving 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 waist began to grow pale 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 brilliant 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 valuable baseball bat floating in the air. It hovered for a while over the butte across the road, then hurriedly descended to the ground.
Pablo was feeling strangely maniacal. He briefly wished he had paid better attention in reading class. His waist was still growing pale, but he got out of the canoe and skipped peevishly toward the object.
As he watched, an opening appeared in the side of the ship, and soon a delicate creature emerged. It was golden-ish in color and looked like a cross between a hedgehog and a cigar. It had seven golden eyes in its back. "Bobifijo shojijanul ojejun, jusuden tu lekritoo, jugadyd yoogled," the creature said.
"Knock me over with a feather," Pablo said. "Care to repeat that in English?"
"Cover wildflower crowbar glass ladle nod off to ridge," the thing grieved.
"Jeepers creepers. You can go back to your native language now. While you're at it, maybe you should go back to your native planet."
"Catozyce wastebasket wronibudyk."
"Why don't you take your wastebasket and shove it in your paw?" Pablo retorted.
The creature looked self-confident. "Mooticapo grykimonoom imokoc, muzonop," it trumpeted. "Gaquyyyt!" it continued.
"Your face is a gaquyyyt!"
He didn't know why he was being so mouthy to the strange, radiant creature; he was feeling unusually pensive. He tended to deal with the unknown the way he would deal with an annoying salesman or stockbroker. If he had been carrying an épée, 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 Richter will be delighted to see you."
The creature galumphed slightly and chanted. Then it rose up on its original legs, puffed out its skull and slunk sheepishly toward him.
For the first time, Pablo had the urge to run, but his elbow was darkening and his legs refused to move.
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