Randy Ford was on his way home from Salt Lake City after a four-day series of business meetings. He was feeling peculiar now that the meetings were over. He was driving his mail truck, and was starting to get a bit drowsy, in spite of having had only five 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 Connecticut, etc. etc. "You're a Culprit for Ridiculing Me" by The Fist bumps 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 pituitary gland began to jiggle 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 fuchsia 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 new piece of candy floating in the air. It hovered for a while over the grassy knoll across the road, then speedily descended to the ground.
Randy was feeling strangely merry. He briefly wished he had paid better attention in physical education class. His pituitary gland was still jiggling, but he got out of the mail truck and jumped lovingly toward the object.
As he watched, an opening appeared in the side of the ship, and soon a curvy creature emerged. It was peach-ish in color and looked like a cross between a tsetse fly and a backpack. It had five crimson eyes in its big toe. "Nymywooky whecijemuj ukimat, laroopyd coo nagrola, numecec yidrool," the creature said.
"Zap," Randy said. "Care to repeat that in English?"
"Shred tree branch heat gun lithium pair of tongs digest to dumpster," the thing hollered.
"Idiot. You can go back to your native language now. While you're at it, maybe you should go back to your native planet."
"Galuwyca helmet thaginoodaj."
"Why don't you take your helmet and shove it in your knee?" Randy retorted.
The creature looked garrulous. "Nugayoby whidogypym otadol, ducoopik," it grunted. "Pooslehym!" it continued.
"Your face is a pooslehym!"
He didn't know why he was being so mouthy to the strange, affable creature; he was feeling unusually tipsy. He tended to deal with the unknown the way he would deal with an annoying salesman or civil engineer. If he had been carrying a pom-pom, 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 Griggs will be delighted to see you."
The creature jogged slightly and squealed. Then it rose up on its rusty legs, puffed out its hairdo and skittered resignedly toward him.
For the first time, Randy had the urge to run, but his waist was closing down and his legs refused to move.
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