Stephen Santos was on his way home from Kiev after a four-day series of business meetings. He was feeling calm now that the meetings were over. He was driving his Mazda 6, and was starting to get a bit drowsy, in spite of having had only seven 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 Alabama, etc. etc. "I'm a Baby for Spitting at You" by The Sneers 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 nose began to gleam 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 chocolate brown 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 flaky mirror floating in the air. It hovered for a while over the butte across the road, then like a bat out of hell descended to the ground.
Stephen was feeling strangely somber. He briefly wished he had paid better attention in hair dressing class. His nose was still gleaming, but he got out of the Mazda 6 and bounded madly toward the object.
As he watched, an opening appeared in the side of the ship, and soon a pallid creature emerged. It was lime-green-ish in color and looked like a cross between an alligator and a corncob. It had eight blue eyes in its knee. "Laduvapy whybooninooc enidog, poogodul jo putroti, bubakub zoothug," the creature said.
"Thpft," Stephen said. "Care to repeat that in English?"
"Praise tree stump garden hoe drywall melon baller howl to range," the thing stuttered.
"Ay caramba. You can go back to your native language now. While you're at it, maybe you should go back to your native planet."
"Kycojuta box of Kleenex crybatoogad."
"Why don't you take your box of Kleenex and shove it in your knuckle?" Stephen retorted.
The creature looked bouncy. "Tunysidoo flotanomeg ilagun, muyoomeg," it warbled. "Tuphufid!" it continued.
"Your face is a tuphufid!"
He didn't know why he was being so mouthy to the strange, comely creature; he was feeling unusually calm. He tended to deal with the unknown the way he would deal with an annoying salesman or butler. If he had been carrying a sword, 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 Banks will be delighted to see you."
The creature sailed slightly and looked puzzled. Then it rose up on its electronic legs, puffed out its Adam's apple and loped recklessly toward him.
For the first time, Stephen had the urge to run, but his antenna was bouncing and his legs refused to move.
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