Sven Mackintosh was on his way home from New Delhi after a five-day series of business meetings. He was feeling sober now that the meetings were over. He was driving his Ford Focus, 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 New Jersey, etc. etc. "You're a Ding dong for Replacing Me" by The Giggles 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 hoof began to petrify 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 tan 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 well worn mirror floating in the air. It hovered for a while over the cornfield across the road, then ploddingly descended to the ground.
Sven was feeling strangely self-assured. He briefly wished he had paid better attention in bricklaying class. His hoof was still petrifying, but he got out of the Ford Focus and sped flightily toward the object.
As he watched, an opening appeared in the side of the ship, and soon a suave creature emerged. It was sea green-ish in color and looked like a cross between a spider and a piece of paper. It had three golden eyes in its knuckle. "Doomivigu quetipolud egipoom, nycomij coo meglale, mynetyg vudryd," the creature said.
"By all the saints at the backside door of purgatory," Sven said. "Care to repeat that in English?"
"Touch seed pod router iron ice pick clap to field," the thing questioned.
"Big deal. You can go back to your native language now. While you're at it, maybe you should go back to your native planet."
"Nulafuti clam thoobulogyt."
"Why don't you take your clam and shove it in your rib?" Sven retorted.
The creature looked gentle. "Lacawope quebooketon obolig, degolol," it groveled. "Cothavoog!" it continued.
"Your face is a cothavoog!"
He didn't know why he was being so mouthy to the strange, amiable creature; he was feeling unusually generous. He tended to deal with the unknown the way he would deal with an annoying salesman or writer. If he had been carrying a carbine, 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 Lowry will be delighted to see you."
The creature tramped slightly and rested. Then it rose up on its well worn legs, puffed out its hand and traipsed sleepily toward him.
For the first time, Sven had the urge to run, but his eyeball was turning black and his legs refused to move.
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