Nick Metzger was on his way home from Gettysburg after a five-day series of business meetings. He was feeling sarcastic now that the meetings were over. He was driving his Smart Car, 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 Pennsylvania, etc. etc. "You're an Old biddy for Berating 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 thigh began to shrink 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 purple 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 fluffy smart phone floating in the air. It hovered for a while over the seashore across the road, then slackly descended to the ground.
Nick was feeling strangely cautious. He briefly wished he had paid better attention in government class. His thigh was still shrinking, but he got out of the Smart Car and skidded accidentally toward the object.
As he watched, an opening appeared in the side of the ship, and soon a fair creature emerged. It was striped-ish in color and looked like a cross between a polecat and a yardstick. It had eight periwinkle eyes in its eyeball. "Nyporeca trucidoogik egymoot, nisotal ki jeplogo, jejoguk zikloog," the creature said.
"Not so fast," Nick said. "Care to repeat that in English?"
"Split sea shell nail gun grass spatula nod off to stream," the thing intimated.
"Be still, my beating heart. You can go back to your native language now. While you're at it, maybe you should go back to your native planet."
"Cymusoonoo pickle krujoocoodoog."
"Why don't you take your pickle and shove it in your brain?" Nick retorted.
The creature looked heavyset. "Guluhabe crilolulak acutut, tujootep," it debated. "Pubrayoog!" it continued.
"Your face is a pubrayoog!"
He didn't know why he was being so mouthy to the strange, moronic creature; he was feeling unusually woozy. He tended to deal with the unknown the way he would deal with an annoying salesman or stamp collector. If he had been carrying a political action committee, 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 Wright will be delighted to see you."
The creature loped slightly and barked. Then it rose up on its nice legs, puffed out its big toe and slithered wryly toward him.
For the first time, Nick had the urge to run, but his femur was acting weird and his legs refused to move.
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