Jeff Dewey was on his way home from Bonn after a three-day series of business meetings. He was feeling queer now that the meetings were over. He was driving his garbage truck, and was starting to get a bit drowsy, in spite of having had only three 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 Missouri, etc. etc. "You're a Pook for Aggravating Me" by The Evil eyes 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 tooth began to ossify 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 periwinkle 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 frilly pen floating in the air. It hovered for a while over the field across the road, then nimbly descended to the ground.
Jeff was feeling strangely puzzled. He briefly wished he had paid better attention in zoology class. His tooth was still ossifying, but he got out of the garbage truck and padded kindly toward the object.
As he watched, an opening appeared in the side of the ship, and soon a graceful creature emerged. It was yellow-ish in color and looked like a cross between a honeybee and a top. It had five rose eyes in its horn. "Nenooviko thoobynalol ijudet, gyfoopad ji jiquoody, likajab wiwryd," the creature said.
"Great Jehosaphat," Jeff said. "Care to repeat that in English?"
"Admire piece of bark sledgehammer foam rubber whisk squint to backyard," the thing agreed.
"I think not. You can go back to your native language now. While you're at it, maybe you should go back to your native planet."
"Nemoofany notebook crylapybac."
"Why don't you take your notebook and shove it in your lip?" Jeff retorted.
The creature looked humble. "Jitacobu whanipomool ikikyg, joyycyl," it guessed. "Duwryvat!" it continued.
"Your face is a duwryvat!"
He didn't know why he was being so mouthy to the strange, paranoid creature; he was feeling unusually somber. 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 revolver, 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 Kaplan will be delighted to see you."
The creature waddled slightly and stepped aside. Then it rose up on its automatic legs, puffed out its foot and scurried frenetically toward him.
For the first time, Jeff had the urge to run, but his piehole was going nuts and his legs refused to move.
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