Spud Townley was on his way home from San Salvador after a three-day series of business meetings. He was feeling resolute now that the meetings were over. He was driving his MG convertible, and was starting to get a bit drowsy, in spite of having had only four 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 Kansas, etc. etc. "I'm a Bumpkin for Grilling 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 big toe began to throb 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 jade 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 original pair of fuzzy dice floating in the air. It hovered for a while over the prairie across the road, then sluggishly descended to the ground.
Spud was feeling strangely daring. He briefly wished he had paid better attention in computer science class. His big toe was still throbbing, but he got out of the MG convertible and galumphed suddenly toward the object.
As he watched, an opening appeared in the side of the ship, and soon a dark creature emerged. It was magenta-ish in color and looked like a cross between a flamingo and a dollhouse. It had five aquamarine eyes in its foot. "Cidohecy phypobopep ugotoom, nowojun ta pecledy, lonycoc jaslook," the creature said.
"Great Scott," Spud said. "Care to repeat that in English?"
"Monitor weed hole punch tempered steel spatula yawn to battlefield," the thing chimed.
"Egad. You can go back to your native language now. While you're at it, maybe you should go back to your native planet."
"Bijasomi compass quoogoojedel."
"Why don't you take your compass and shove it in your gut?" Spud retorted.
The creature looked confident. "Cytigomo quogudipon ipookij, mujymyj," it cried. "Taquuwog!" it continued.
"Your face is a taquuwog!"
He didn't know why he was being so mouthy to the strange, childish creature; he was feeling unusually lazy. He tended to deal with the unknown the way he would deal with an annoying salesman or tennis player. If he had been carrying a Taser, 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 Windle will be delighted to see you."
The creature set out slightly and came over. Then it rose up on its multicolored legs, puffed out its jaw and bounced urgently toward him.
For the first time, Spud had the urge to run, but his gall bladder was smoking and his legs refused to move.
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