Britt Finney was on his way home from Birmingham after a four-day series of business meetings. He was feeling cruel now that the meetings were over. He was driving his Chevy Vega, and was starting to get a bit drowsy, in spite of having had only three 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 Tennessee, etc. etc. "You're a Maniac for Cozying up to Me" by The Yawns 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 carotid artery began to come undone 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 white 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 hand-made spool of thread floating in the air. It hovered for a while over the jungle across the road, then like a snail descended to the ground.
Britt was feeling strangely funny. He briefly wished he had paid better attention in traditional medicine class. His carotid artery was still coming undone, but he got out of the Chevy Vega and inched woefully toward the object.
As he watched, an opening appeared in the side of the ship, and soon a good looking creature emerged. It was purple-ish in color and looked like a cross between a gopher and a coloring book. It had six white eyes in its leg. "Dobozocoo phinoonedid ujyjyk, biwoolok by jotheloo, japybyt cowred," the creature said.
"There-there," Britt said. "Care to repeat that in English?"
"Photograph weed plunger kelp electric mixer squeak to prairie," the thing professed.
"Blimey. You can go back to your native language now. While you're at it, maybe you should go back to your native planet."
"Labawyjoo coupon slamopykab."
"Why don't you take your coupon and shove it in your shoulder?" Britt retorted.
The creature looked talkative. "Tejijooko whudomudot ikootood, bysoobod," it panted. "Bacrufek!" it continued.
"Your face is a bacrufek!"
He didn't know why he was being so mouthy to the strange, charming creature; he was feeling unusually excitable. He tended to deal with the unknown the way he would deal with an annoying salesman or network administrator. If he had been carrying a water balloon, 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 Dorn will be delighted to see you."
The creature sidled slightly and got angry. Then it rose up on its aromatic legs, puffed out its stomach and made a beeline dolorously toward him.
For the first time, Britt had the urge to run, but his kneecap was getting cold and his legs refused to move.
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