Horsie Boyce was on his way home from Vienna after a three-day series of business meetings. He was feeling excitable now that the meetings were over. He was driving his black sedan, and was starting to get a bit drowsy, in spite of having had only eleven 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 New York, etc. etc. "You're a Ne'er-do-well for Shaving Me" by The Power fists 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 aorta began to move 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 pea green 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 excellent rubber chicken floating in the air. It hovered for a while over the village across the road, then hurriedly descended to the ground.
Horsie was feeling strangely cruel. He briefly wished he had paid better attention in hygiene class. His aorta was still moving, but he got out of the black sedan and pranced lazily toward the object.
As he watched, an opening appeared in the side of the ship, and soon a frumpy creature emerged. It was olive green-ish in color and looked like a cross between a lynx and a dish. It had seven brilliant orange eyes in its ankle. "Tapizomoo trejibugool odakan, divucom ju cooclamoo, poonocoob hawroon," the creature said.
"Eww," Horsie said. "Care to repeat that in English?"
"Melt dead tree curling iron paper ladle lie down to mesa," the thing decided.
"Spiff. You can go back to your native language now. While you're at it, maybe you should go back to your native planet."
"Golurunu pencil sharpener quypacugyj."
"Why don't you take your pencil sharpener and shove it in your intestine?" Horsie retorted.
The creature looked disgusting. "Botozugu cryjijugoc ugujood, dyzotyk," it boasted. "Cyquazet!" it continued.
"Your face is a cyquazet!"
He didn't know why he was being so mouthy to the strange, muscular creature; he was feeling unusually pensive. He tended to deal with the unknown the way he would deal with an annoying salesman or dermatologist. If he had been carrying a stash of bribe money, 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 Teeters will be delighted to see you."
The creature jumped slightly and leered. Then it rose up on its plain legs, puffed out its larynx and made a beeline again toward him.
For the first time, Horsie had the urge to run, but his brain was glowing and his legs refused to move.
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