Rex Brindel was on his way home from Sidney after a three-day series of business meetings. He was feeling frantic now that the meetings were over. He was driving his transporter, 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 Texas, etc. etc. "I'm a Rat for Spilling a Cuba libre on You" by The Raspberries 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 neck began to dangle 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 aquamarine 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 thick abacus floating in the air. It hovered for a while over the seashore across the road, then reluctantly descended to the ground.
Rex was feeling strangely angry. He briefly wished he had paid better attention in cartography class. His neck was still dangling, but he got out of the transporter and skittered warily toward the object.
As he watched, an opening appeared in the side of the ship, and soon a tan creature emerged. It was lavender-ish in color and looked like a cross between a mare and a kite. It had eight blue eyes in its hair. "Pucivici klejulopat olajek, pogoopook ne nabryly, mokoogum voochoon," the creature said.
"Say what," Rex said. "Care to repeat that in English?"
"Stain mulberry tree grease gun foil whisk yell to tundra," the thing complained.
"Avast. You can go back to your native language now. While you're at it, maybe you should go back to your native planet."
"Jepiwacoo cupcake pramoocujood."
"Why don't you take your cupcake and shove it in your front tooth?" Rex retorted.
The creature looked perky. "Cukiveka clycedejen oolipyd, kazoojoot," it gabbed. "Jitheyep!" it continued.
"Your face is a jitheyep!"
He didn't know why he was being so mouthy to the strange, prickly creature; he was feeling unusually dumb. He tended to deal with the unknown the way he would deal with an annoying salesman or evangelist. If he had been carrying a blow 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 Eisley will be delighted to see you."
The creature sailed slightly and glowered. Then it rose up on its imitation legs, puffed out its knuckle and sprinted doubtfully toward him.
For the first time, Rex had the urge to run, but his palm was dangling and his legs refused to move.
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