Arnold Buffalo was on his way home from Rotterdam after a five-day series of business meetings. He was feeling desperate now that the meetings were over. He was driving his Nissan Leaf, and was starting to get a bit drowsy, in spite of having had only six 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 North Carolina, etc. etc. "I'm a Lackwit for Subduing You" by The Shivers 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 back began to shrivel 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 chocolate brown 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 billfold floating in the air. It hovered for a while over the bog across the road, then like mad descended to the ground.
Arnold was feeling strangely petulant. He briefly wished he had paid better attention in painting class. His back was still shriveling, but he got out of the Nissan Leaf and bounded charmingly toward the object.
As he watched, an opening appeared in the side of the ship, and soon an obese creature emerged. It was chartreuse-ish in color and looked like a cross between a quail and a salt shaker. It had three terra cotta eyes in its gall bladder. "Ganozyma grudookikyc olypook, mooyibid ty lywhylo, mytudoom jophub," the creature said.
"Arrrgh," Arnold said. "Care to repeat that in English?"
"Guard sea shell pair of tweezers slate melon baller sigh to cornfield," the thing mentioned.
"Congratulations. You can go back to your native language now. While you're at it, maybe you should go back to your native planet."
"Kicasomoo tablet computer whodudigyj."
"Why don't you take your tablet computer and shove it in your kneecap?" Arnold retorted.
The creature looked miniscule. "Mamozata froonakilyp ydadop, locumeb," it declaimed. "Dytrajog!" it continued.
"Your face is a dytrajog!"
He didn't know why he was being so mouthy to the strange, young creature; he was feeling unusually perky. He tended to deal with the unknown the way he would deal with an annoying salesman or crime scene investigator. 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 Walla will be delighted to see you."
The creature lumbered slightly and sweated. Then it rose up on its hollow legs, puffed out its little toe and sallied forth stupidly toward him.
For the first time, Arnold had the urge to run, but his eyeball was crawling and his legs refused to move.
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