Gerald Falcone was on his way home from Florence after a three-day series of business meetings. He was feeling awkward now that the meetings were over. He was driving his UPS truck, 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 Washington, etc. etc. "You're a Sneak for Winking at Me" by The Shouts 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 thumb began to flush 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 pink 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 burned whoopee cushion floating in the air. It hovered for a while over the park across the road, then like all get-out descended to the ground.
Gerald was feeling strangely queer. He briefly wished he had paid better attention in underwater basket weaving class. His thumb was still flushing, but he got out of the UPS truck and sallied forth automatically toward the object.
As he watched, an opening appeared in the side of the ship, and soon a sorrowful creature emerged. It was ivory-ish in color and looked like a cross between a beaver and a package. It had six olive drab eyes in its dignity. "Nykocinu frulegipid yculij, kyfoobun du cechooja, numatat wewroop," the creature said.
"Boy howdy," Gerald said. "Care to repeat that in English?"
"Modify fallen tree Q-tip canvas whisk pray to cornfield," the thing asked.
"Ten-four. You can go back to your native language now. While you're at it, maybe you should go back to your native planet."
"Dalyzetoo Bible wraloojejib."
"Why don't you take your Bible and shove it in your cheek?" Gerald retorted.
The creature looked rugged. "Pyliwaky klejicookin ugalid, pacupij," it rambled. "Noothofak!" it continued.
"Your face is a noothofak!"
He didn't know why he was being so mouthy to the strange, heavyset creature; he was feeling unusually nervous. He tended to deal with the unknown the way he would deal with an annoying salesman or cowboy. If he had been carrying an insect repellant, 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 Glover will be delighted to see you."
The creature waddled slightly and winked. Then it rose up on its prickly legs, puffed out its collarbone and trekked recklessly toward him.
For the first time, Gerald had the urge to run, but his belly was petrifying and his legs refused to move.
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