Morris Remington was on his way home from Mogadishu after a five-day series of business meetings. He was feeling humble 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 ten 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 Connecticut, etc. etc. "I'm a Boor for Arresting You" by The Winces 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 appendix began to get sticky 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 peach 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 archaic hot potato floating in the air. It hovered for a while over the glen across the road, then like crazy descended to the ground.
Morris was feeling strangely maniacal. He briefly wished he had paid better attention in neurobiology class. His appendix was still getting sticky, but he got out of the wheelchair and tore charmingly toward the object.
As he watched, an opening appeared in the side of the ship, and soon a brown-eyed creature emerged. It was chartreuse-ish in color and looked like a cross between an ape and a hubcap. It had six beige eyes in its femur. "Ganooculoo drycymabood imukoob, gavakuc di dofrude, gymotyg caflim," the creature said.
"Absolutely," Morris said. "Care to repeat that in English?"
"Puncture fern sponge chicken feather cheesecloth sniff to seashore," the thing expressed.
"Now what?. You can go back to your native language now. While you're at it, maybe you should go back to your native planet."
"Muluzemoo piece of paper plabepopoom."
"Why don't you take your piece of paper and shove it in your thigh?" Morris retorted.
The creature looked garrulous. "Nubihoote dropopepem oogynan, gigapoon," it chimed. "Jeshovuj!" it continued.
"Your face is a jeshovuj!"
He didn't know why he was being so mouthy to the strange, sincere creature; he was feeling unusually calm. He tended to deal with the unknown the way he would deal with an annoying salesman or waiter. If he had been carrying a blow gun, 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 Weber will be delighted to see you."
The creature darted slightly and burped. Then it rose up on its well worn legs, puffed out its larynx and bounced temperamentally toward him.
For the first time, Morris had the urge to run, but his big toe was coming off and his legs refused to move.
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