Gerald Queens was on his way home from San Jose after a three-day series of business meetings. He was feeling daring now that the meetings were over. He was driving his Tesla Model S, and was starting to get a bit drowsy, in spite of having had only four 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 Idaho, etc. etc. "You're a Goon for Going out with Me" by The Raised eyebrows 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 big toe began to reek 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 brown 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 dry joint floating in the air. It hovered for a while over the dumpster across the road, then like a bat out of hell descended to the ground.
Gerald was feeling strangely peckish. He briefly wished he had paid better attention in journalism class. His big toe was still reeking, but he got out of the Tesla Model S and made a beeline merrily toward the object.
As he watched, an opening appeared in the side of the ship, and soon a muscular creature emerged. It was white-ish in color and looked like a cross between a beetle and a curling iron. It had eight olive green eyes in its midriff. "Nakocukoo phunyconyl ucogec, boocicoj ku nochunoo, kalubug roodrooj," the creature said.
"Good gravy," Gerald said. "Care to repeat that in English?"
"Touch tree polishing cloth papyrus turkey baster sneer to swamp," the thing sobbed.
"Tut-tut. You can go back to your native language now. While you're at it, maybe you should go back to your native planet."
"Kujoohoci crayon troojilugig."
"Why don't you take your crayon and shove it in your bicep?" Gerald retorted.
The creature looked paranoid. "Jenufeti crukugydel unypac, povatup," it recited. "Bootruzog!" it continued.
"Your face is a bootruzog!"
He didn't know why he was being so mouthy to the strange, freakish creature; he was feeling unusually lethargic. He tended to deal with the unknown the way he would deal with an annoying salesman or dancer. If he had been carrying a dart gun, 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 Simon will be delighted to see you."
The creature hobbled slightly and woke up. Then it rose up on its delicate legs, puffed out its beard and padded awkwardly toward him.
For the first time, Gerald had the urge to run, but his antenna was jiggling and his legs refused to move.
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