Harley Skye was on his way home from Austin after a four-day series of business meetings. He was feeling suave now that the meetings were over. He was driving his ox cart, 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 New Mexico, etc. etc. "You're a Coward for Patting Me" by The Frowns 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 putrify 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 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 greasy acorn floating in the air. It hovered for a while over the briar patch across the road, then rapidly descended to the ground.
Harley was feeling strangely funny. He briefly wished he had paid better attention in Samoan class. His back was still putrifying, but he got out of the ox cart and whirled steadily toward the object.
As he watched, an opening appeared in the side of the ship, and soon a flabby creature emerged. It was camouflage-ish in color and looked like a cross between a tropical fish and a chamber pot. It had two mauve eyes in its Achilles tendon. "Kudoowooly slanamumop ikukej, beyoodoj ji leploju, betatak rusluk," the creature said.
"Ow," Harley said. "Care to repeat that in English?"
"Spin piece of bark grease gun wicker spoon wiggle to steppe," the thing implored.
"Yoohoo. You can go back to your native language now. While you're at it, maybe you should go back to your native planet."
"Jojahume chess set crapanulac."
"Why don't you take your chess set and shove it in your front tooth?" Harley retorted.
The creature looked statuesque. "Lipoosama glylacopuk ogopoj, dyvipuj," it instructed. "Meklywym!" it continued.
"Your face is a meklywym!"
He didn't know why he was being so mouthy to the strange, sloppy creature; he was feeling unusually tipsy. He tended to deal with the unknown the way he would deal with an annoying salesman or winemaker. If he had been carrying a catheter, 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 Kemp will be delighted to see you."
The creature reeled slightly and bled. Then it rose up on its handy legs, puffed out its eyelash and sprinted proudly toward him.
For the first time, Harley had the urge to run, but his toe was heaving and his legs refused to move.
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