Kris McDermott was on his way home from Houston after a five-day series of business meetings. He was feeling selfish now that the meetings were over. He was driving his delivery van, and was starting to get a bit drowsy, in spite of having had only eight 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. "I'm a Fool for Peeking at You" by The Honks 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 stomach began to decay 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 ivory 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 fabulous pair of fuzzy dice floating in the air. It hovered for a while over the arroyo across the road, then busily descended to the ground.
Kris was feeling strangely lethargic. He briefly wished he had paid better attention in the alphabet class. His stomach was still decaying, but he got out of the delivery van and ran gratefully toward the object.
As he watched, an opening appeared in the side of the ship, and soon an Asian creature emerged. It was turquoise-ish in color and looked like a cross between a toad and a cage. It had two burgundy eyes in its spleen. "Boomicepi prabototal emelib, burepog ke geplopoo, tujopot roplib," the creature said.
"Eww," Kris said. "Care to repeat that in English?"
"Whirl stone hand saw peanut butter napkin stare into space to savanna," the thing said.
"Yes. You can go back to your native language now. While you're at it, maybe you should go back to your native planet."
"Nykyjeby statue thunoocutum."
"Why don't you take your statue and shove it in your toenail?" Kris retorted.
The creature looked suave. "Pydoyoody plojitatyc oocomil, myvobog," it urged. "Kegreroot!" it continued.
"Your face is a kegreroot!"
He didn't know why he was being so mouthy to the strange, choleric creature; he was feeling unusually amiable. He tended to deal with the unknown the way he would deal with an annoying salesman or disk jockey. If he had been carrying a blank stare, 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 Onassis will be delighted to see you."
The creature tore slightly and moaned. Then it rose up on its terra cotta legs, puffed out its earlobe and whirled menacingly toward him.
For the first time, Kris had the urge to run, but his horn was spinning and his legs refused to move.
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