Tony Garland was on his way home from Jacksonville after a five-day series of business meetings. He was feeling irate now that the meetings were over. He was driving his Model T, 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 Hipster for Banishing You" by The Snarls 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 tail began to kink 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 aqua 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 gleaming peanut floating in the air. It hovered for a while over the savanna across the road, then hurriedly descended to the ground.
Tony was feeling strangely stubborn. He briefly wished he had paid better attention in Greek class. His tail was still kinking, but he got out of the Model T and reeled steadily toward the object.
As he watched, an opening appeared in the side of the ship, and soon a curvy creature emerged. It was silver-ish in color and looked like a cross between a lynx and a clam. It had two burgundy eyes in its vein. "Tuliyuco crogoomagyn ubogup, kaculom li jitheka, gedejuc fachit," the creature said.
"Shoot," Tony said. "Care to repeat that in English?"
"Leave wolf track utility knife maple ice pick swear to badlands area," the thing chanted.
"Yuck. You can go back to your native language now. While you're at it, maybe you should go back to your native planet."
"Pepoojoco pot whukemolip."
"Why don't you take your pot and shove it in your neck?" Tony retorted.
The creature looked boring. "Notorajo shibootoonom iboobyk, jigookad," it growled. "Tifloovog!" it continued.
"Your face is a tifloovog!"
He didn't know why he was being so mouthy to the strange, sincere creature; he was feeling unusually self-confident. He tended to deal with the unknown the way he would deal with an annoying salesman or pediatrician. If he had been carrying a golf club, 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 Montoya will be delighted to see you."
The creature struggled slightly and squeaked. Then it rose up on its queer legs, puffed out its eyebrow and cantered threateningly toward him.
For the first time, Tony had the urge to run, but his forehead was jumping and his legs refused to move.
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