Abe Naipaul was on his way home from Managua after a four-day series of business meetings. He was feeling suave now that the meetings were over. He was driving his Bentley, 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 South Dakota, etc. etc. "You're a Lamebrain for Harassing Me" by The Smacks 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 ego began to dance 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 forest green 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 smumpy cigarette floating in the air. It hovered for a while over the trail across the road, then indolently descended to the ground.
Abe was feeling strangely decisive. He briefly wished he had paid better attention in entomology class. His ego was still dancing, but he got out of the Bentley and hopped cheerfully toward the object.
As he watched, an opening appeared in the side of the ship, and soon a dapper creature emerged. It was khaki-ish in color and looked like a cross between a dachshund and a paper towel. It had two violet eyes in its head. "Lekesajo ghudutotij oodoomij, giroocoob ju lagroba, jajutop sishuc," the creature said.
"Ouch," Abe said. "Care to repeat that in English?"
"Unfasten stick roll of duct tape sugar grater cogitate to ridge," the thing quoted.
"Shhh. You can go back to your native language now. While you're at it, maybe you should go back to your native planet."
"Doopugemy jar of olives prenadoocid."
"Why don't you take your jar of olives and shove it in your hand?" Abe retorted.
The creature looked thoughtful. "Jedocuko klelugunob oogipac, pezotel," it barked. "Pyprygag!" it continued.
"Your face is a pyprygag!"
He didn't know why he was being so mouthy to the strange, pensive creature; he was feeling unusually muddled. He tended to deal with the unknown the way he would deal with an annoying salesman or colonel. If he had been carrying a pop 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 Friezbergen will be delighted to see you."
The creature trotted slightly and meditated. Then it rose up on its gaudy legs, puffed out its eyeball and waded queerly toward him.
For the first time, Abe had the urge to run, but his thorax was dissolving and his legs refused to move.
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