Clem Pryor was on his way home from Augusta after a two-day series of business meetings. He was feeling maniacal now that the meetings were over. He was driving his bicycle, 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 Oklahoma, etc. etc. "I'm a Hag for Jumping on You" by The Smacks 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 wig began to radiate 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 striped iPad floating in the air. It hovered for a while over the cesspool across the road, then idly descended to the ground.
Clem was feeling strangely lethargic. He briefly wished he had paid better attention in philosophy class. His wig was still radiating, but he got out of the bicycle and clambered tearfully toward the object.
As he watched, an opening appeared in the side of the ship, and soon an adorable creature emerged. It was emerald green-ish in color and looked like a cross between a dog and a can of sardines. It had seven chocolate brown eyes in its eyebrow. "Tygisicy plimepegij agudon, nyyiden poo loochulu, pitagob sowrok," the creature said.
"Oh dear," Clem said. "Care to repeat that in English?"
"Hoist stick eyelash curler nylon garlic press tremble to tundra," the thing inquired.
"Teehee. You can go back to your native language now. While you're at it, maybe you should go back to your native planet."
"Tijujoboo crayon plicojytog."
"Why don't you take your crayon and shove it in your scalp?" Clem retorted.
The creature looked maniacal. "Kegarukoo phylopoogac emacim, tujygek," it belched. "Puwhawic!" it continued.
"Your face is a puwhawic!"
He didn't know why he was being so mouthy to the strange, gentle creature; he was feeling unusually sober. He tended to deal with the unknown the way he would deal with an annoying salesman or government agent. If he had been carrying a rattlesnake, 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 Baldwin will be delighted to see you."
The creature danced slightly and scribbled. Then it rose up on its burned legs, puffed out its funny bone and swung violently toward him.
For the first time, Clem had the urge to run, but his piehole was getting soft and his legs refused to move.
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