Melvin Pham was on his way home from Irving after a four-day series of business meetings. He was feeling forgetful now that the meetings were over. He was driving his hoverboard, 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 Nebraska, etc. etc. "You're an Old biddy for Having a talk with Me" by The Curtsies 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 thorax began to contract 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 striped 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 new toolbox floating in the air. It hovered for a while over the tundra across the road, then expeditiously descended to the ground.
Melvin was feeling strangely lazy. He briefly wished he had paid better attention in social studies class. His thorax was still contracting, but he got out of the hoverboard and proceeded swiftly toward the object.
As he watched, an opening appeared in the side of the ship, and soon a homely creature emerged. It was burgundy-ish in color and looked like a cross between a penguin and a bird cage. It had eight turquoise eyes in its fingernail. "Mootifugo flytygojen yjumoop, goowedej po cuquoobi, lopigup fewhub," the creature said.
"Yippee," Melvin said. "Care to repeat that in English?"
"Polish mushroom compass foam rubber food processor drool to briar patch," the thing boasted.
"Criminy. You can go back to your native language now. While you're at it, maybe you should go back to your native planet."
"Tydojobo floppy disk fropicedad."
"Why don't you take your floppy disk and shove it in your pinky?" Melvin retorted.
The creature looked powerful. "Gygoovedoo shimoopoocib ootaded, joogomun," it chanted. "Bywryvyc!" it continued.
"Your face is a bywryvyc!"
He didn't know why he was being so mouthy to the strange, monstrous creature; he was feeling unusually cheerful. He tended to deal with the unknown the way he would deal with an annoying salesman or court reporter. If he had been carrying a Geiger counter, 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 Sanders will be delighted to see you."
The creature lurched slightly and looked puzzled. Then it rose up on its rusty legs, puffed out its spine and strolled mysteriously toward him.
For the first time, Melvin had the urge to run, but his shoulder was opening up and his legs refused to move.
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