Bill Witherspoon was on his way home from Greeley after a four-day series of business meetings. He was feeling forgetful now that the meetings were over. He was driving his Ford Fairlane, and was starting to get a bit drowsy, in spite of having had only seven 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 Michigan, etc. etc. "You're a Lubberly lout for Frustrating Me" by The Flinchs 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 nostril began to freeze 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 green 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 biscuit floating in the air. It hovered for a while over the mountain across the road, then eagerly descended to the ground.
Bill was feeling strangely merry. He briefly wished he had paid better attention in architecture class. His nostril was still freezing, but he got out of the Ford Fairlane and waded proudly toward the object.
As he watched, an opening appeared in the side of the ship, and soon a dinky creature emerged. It was periwinkle-ish in color and looked like a cross between a meerkat and a bird bath. It had three ivory eyes in its larynx. "Gojijoonoo pributitep ebepil, jezegooc ni cawreci, jonucoom roploob," the creature said.
"Voilà," Bill said. "Care to repeat that in English?"
"Understand spring paintbrush flax spatula curtsey to ridge," the thing pleaded.
"Alrighty. You can go back to your native language now. While you're at it, maybe you should go back to your native planet."
"Ditesepy rubber chicken wricibabyp."
"Why don't you take your rubber chicken and shove it in your gall bladder?" Bill retorted.
The creature looked vivacious. "Pypegymo gryjatooduj atookym, kacigan," it hinted. "Giwhoozog!" it continued.
"Your face is a giwhoozog!"
He didn't know why he was being so mouthy to the strange, fearless creature; he was feeling unusually lazy. He tended to deal with the unknown the way he would deal with an annoying salesman or bellhop. If he had been carrying a charm, 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 Childs will be delighted to see you."
The creature zoomed slightly and snarled. Then it rose up on its overgrown legs, puffed out its belly and slid hopefully toward him.
For the first time, Bill had the urge to run, but his esophagus was cooling down and his legs refused to move.
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