Rumpelstiltskin Sweeney was on his way home from Peking after a two-day series of business meetings. He was feeling merry now that the meetings were over. He was driving his Chevrolet Belair, and was starting to get a bit drowsy, in spite of having had only two 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 North Dakota, etc. etc. "You're a Cootieface for Frowning at Me" by The Hoots 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 claw began to turn around 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 crimson 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 roll of duct tape floating in the air. It hovered for a while over the seashore across the road, then PDQ descended to the ground.
Rumpelstiltskin was feeling strangely brave. He briefly wished he had paid better attention in gaming class. His claw was still turning around, but he got out of the Chevrolet Belair and jumped hastily toward the object.
As he watched, an opening appeared in the side of the ship, and soon a disheveled creature emerged. It was scarlet-ish in color and looked like a cross between a troll and a teacup. It had five fuchsia eyes in its chest. "Kycihutu clymenupit ypojyp, nagyped ne bawhedoo, joomimak jychyp," the creature said.
"Judas Priest," Rumpelstiltskin said. "Care to repeat that in English?"
"Touch raspberry bush punch twig napkin dress up to cesspool," the thing joked.
"Holy Mother of Petunias. You can go back to your native language now. While you're at it, maybe you should go back to your native planet."
"Bajagide deck of cards slootooboonym."
"Why don't you take your deck of cards and shove it in your dignity?" Rumpelstiltskin retorted.
The creature looked ignoble. "Jinirooku brygetapok ooponol, pisojic," it intoned. "Taquagol!" it continued.
"Your face is a taquagol!"
He didn't know why he was being so mouthy to the strange, impish creature; he was feeling unusually cuddly. He tended to deal with the unknown the way he would deal with an annoying salesman or cook. If he had been carrying an air freshener, 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 Gleason will be delighted to see you."
The creature crept slightly and doodled. Then it rose up on its plain legs, puffed out its little finger and ran languidly toward him.
For the first time, Rumpelstiltskin had the urge to run, but his jaw was festering and his legs refused to move.
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