Craig Fontanaro was on his way home from Beijing after a three-day series of business meetings. He was feeling confident now that the meetings were over. He was driving his wheelchair, 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 Rhode Island, etc. etc. "You're a Louse for Trying to control Me" by The Glares 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 spinal cord began to sweat 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 lavender 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 excellent bilge pump floating in the air. It hovered for a while over the mesa across the road, then swiftly descended to the ground.
Craig was feeling strangely decisive. He briefly wished he had paid better attention in songwriting class. His spinal cord was still sweating, but he got out of the wheelchair and sidled crankily toward the object.
As he watched, an opening appeared in the side of the ship, and soon an emaciated creature emerged. It was salmon-ish in color and looked like a cross between a pig and a Happy Meal. It had six sea green eyes in its aorta. "Pitejagoo clabecumob ipubug, cohatuc no kakryde, gojunil riphet," the creature said.
"Gesundheit," Craig said. "Care to repeat that in English?"
"Taste leaf monkey wrench uranium electric mixer chuckle to battlefield," the thing asked.
"Get outta here. You can go back to your native language now. While you're at it, maybe you should go back to your native planet."
"Begafogi baseball bat klootedekoop."
"Why don't you take your baseball bat and shove it in your pinky?" Craig retorted.
The creature looked brassy. "Papoosico thapupecyn upiloob, deyocob," it sobbed. "Dachevyt!" it continued.
"Your face is a dachevyt!"
He didn't know why he was being so mouthy to the strange, freakish creature; he was feeling unusually puzzled. He tended to deal with the unknown the way he would deal with an annoying salesman or trader. If he had been carrying a bomb, 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 Slater will be delighted to see you."
The creature loped slightly and burped. Then it rose up on its new legs, puffed out its belly button and whirled ferociously toward him.
For the first time, Craig had the urge to run, but his funny bone was sweating and his legs refused to move.
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