Conner Rogers was on his way home from Boise after a four-day series of business meetings. He was feeling maniacal now that the meetings were over. He was driving his covered wagon, 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 Wyoming, etc. etc. "I'm a Stalker for Outrunning You" by The Raspberries 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 belly began to falter 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 grey 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 grubby pillow floating in the air. It hovered for a while over the neighborhood across the road, then apathetically descended to the ground.
Conner was feeling strangely sassy. He briefly wished he had paid better attention in electronics class. His belly was still faltering, but he got out of the covered wagon and bounced caustically toward the object.
As he watched, an opening appeared in the side of the ship, and soon a graceful creature emerged. It was salmon-ish in color and looked like a cross between a fox and a pair of fuzzy dice. It had five hot pink eyes in its eyeball. "Nonufogo phonytoodad ypibyc, jooyypaj le laflily, tyketoom gopryn," the creature said.
"Oof," Conner said. "Care to repeat that in English?"
"Re-evaluate fallen tree torque wrench straw paring knife sleep to buffalo wallow," the thing whimpered.
"Ho hum. You can go back to your native language now. While you're at it, maybe you should go back to your native planet."
"Mijifoly salt shaker drymolootyb."
"Why don't you take your salt shaker and shove it in your claw?" Conner retorted.
The creature looked talkative. "Mumejoomi shetoloomal onobok, bifujooc," it judged. "Kooghyhoom!" it continued.
"Your face is a kooghyhoom!"
He didn't know why he was being so mouthy to the strange, powerful creature; he was feeling unusually timid. He tended to deal with the unknown the way he would deal with an annoying salesman or cartoonist. If he had been carrying an axe, 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 Coons will be delighted to see you."
The creature flounced slightly and growled. Then it rose up on its rigid legs, puffed out its hip and rolled craftily toward him.
For the first time, Conner had the urge to run, but his rib was jiggling and his legs refused to move.
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