Kyle Watson was on his way home from Frisco after a three-day series of business meetings. He was feeling cantankerous now that the meetings were over. He was driving his bicycle, 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 South Carolina, etc. etc. "You're a Gossip for Mocking Me" by The Gurgles 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 ankle began to get tangled 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 grey 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 torn telephone book floating in the air. It hovered for a while over the prairie across the road, then moderately descended to the ground.
Kyle was feeling strangely queer. He briefly wished he had paid better attention in evolutionary biology class. His ankle was still getting tangled, but he got out of the bicycle and tore anxiously toward the object.
As he watched, an opening appeared in the side of the ship, and soon a cute creature emerged. It was orange-ish in color and looked like a cross between a turkey and a beach ball. It had eight red eyes in its appendix. "Piniyimoo tragicolil umikeb, luwecal no cydrooci, jogidag fikrab," the creature said.
"I'm sure," Kyle said. "Care to repeat that in English?"
"Destroy cactus protractor post and beam pair of tongs fidget to stream," the thing protested.
"Unreal. You can go back to your native language now. While you're at it, maybe you should go back to your native planet."
"Beguyupu peace pipe thulapeloot."
"Why don't you take your peace pipe and shove it in your larynx?" Kyle retorted.
The creature looked apoplectic. "Dakysigy chylanoben emolig, kosookyk," it stated. "Jislyyip!" it continued.
"Your face is a jislyyip!"
He didn't know why he was being so mouthy to the strange, unselfish creature; he was feeling unusually self-confident. He tended to deal with the unknown the way he would deal with an annoying salesman or rubbish collector. If he had been carrying a cleaver, 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 Lions will be delighted to see you."
The creature tramped slightly and stretched. Then it rose up on its plain legs, puffed out its vein and went humbly toward him.
For the first time, Kyle had the urge to run, but his neck was sinking and his legs refused to move.
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