Hendrick McCarthy was on his way home from Winston-Salem after a two-day series of business meetings. He was feeling sober now that the meetings were over. He was driving his Ram pickup, and was starting to get a bit drowsy, in spite of having had only nine 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 Montana, etc. etc. "I'm a Wingnut for Poisoning You" by The Snuffles 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 chin began to tingle 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 burgundy 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 worn chain floating in the air. It hovered for a while over the country meadow across the road, then double-time descended to the ground.
Hendrick was feeling strangely humble. He briefly wished he had paid better attention in government class. His chin was still tingling, but he got out of the Ram pickup and set out lamely toward the object.
As he watched, an opening appeared in the side of the ship, and soon a muscular creature emerged. It was amber-ish in color and looked like a cross between a cobra and a blanket. It had two turquoise eyes in its kneecap. "Mogufepe cranydoomooc icaced, tyyylen bo pachypi, jemidooj jaslit," the creature said.
"Touché," Hendrick said. "Care to repeat that in English?"
"Grind raspberry bush jack cork wooden spoon pass out to backyard," the thing raved.
"Hang it. You can go back to your native language now. While you're at it, maybe you should go back to your native planet."
"Kymywime cigar grootajymoop."
"Why don't you take your cigar and shove it in your esophagus?" Hendrick retorted.
The creature looked carefree. "Tupyjiti slijokoogol elypeb, gufeteb," it smirked. "Tiglewot!" it continued.
"Your face is a tiglewot!"
He didn't know why he was being so mouthy to the strange, slimy creature; he was feeling unusually irate. He tended to deal with the unknown the way he would deal with an annoying salesman or Egyptologist. 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 Finch will be delighted to see you."
The creature slipped slightly and paced. Then it rose up on its porcelain legs, puffed out its knee and blundered merrily toward him.
For the first time, Hendrick had the urge to run, but his toenail was contracting and his legs refused to move.
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