Angelo Bartholomew was on his way home from Saint Paul after a three-day series of business meetings. He was feeling humble now that the meetings were over. He was driving his convertible, 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 Montana, etc. etc. "You're a She-wolf for Subduing Me" by The Tears 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 back began to bend 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 sea 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 primitive box of Kleenex floating in the air. It hovered for a while over the cesspool across the road, then like a bat out of hell descended to the ground.
Angelo was feeling strangely cheerful. He briefly wished he had paid better attention in musicianship class. His back was still bending, but he got out of the convertible and pranced despondently toward the object.
As he watched, an opening appeared in the side of the ship, and soon a youthful creature emerged. It was aqua-ish in color and looked like a cross between a horse and a hand puppet. It had four violet eyes in its little toe. "Palyweme shapodenog upoogen, cahygooj gu migheli, kamicel weglyd," the creature said.
"Goodness," Angelo said. "Care to repeat that in English?"
"Forget weed scythe rock spoon fantasize to river," the thing scoffed.
"Alack. You can go back to your native language now. While you're at it, maybe you should go back to your native planet."
"Tidevoma piggy bank tramynakag."
"Why don't you take your piggy bank and shove it in your kidney?" Angelo retorted.
The creature looked frantic. "Camahoola floocunalyj iloodoob, decopon," it added. "Bechecut!" it continued.
"Your face is a bechecut!"
He didn't know why he was being so mouthy to the strange, disorganized creature; he was feeling unusually tipsy. He tended to deal with the unknown the way he would deal with an annoying salesman or psychic. If he had been carrying a stash of bribe money, 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 Henry will be delighted to see you."
The creature zipped slightly and gasped. Then it rose up on its weird legs, puffed out its piehole and waded unnaturally toward him.
For the first time, Angelo had the urge to run, but his hip was turning grey and his legs refused to move.
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