Rob Diamond was on his way home from Eugene after a four-day series of business meetings. He was feeling sober now that the meetings were over. He was driving his Ram pickup, 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 Maryland, etc. etc. "You're a Hound dog for Scaring Me" 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 chin began to line up 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 sea green 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 plain pair of pliers floating in the air. It hovered for a while over the hayfield across the road, then at a creep descended to the ground.
Rob was feeling strangely generous. He briefly wished he had paid better attention in obedience class. His chin was still lining up, but he got out of the Ram pickup and traipsed bravely toward the object.
As he watched, an opening appeared in the side of the ship, and soon a fit creature emerged. It was camouflage-ish in color and looked like a cross between a gorilla and an ironing board. It had eight aquamarine eyes in its shoulder. "Teperiny trilimolyb utakug, jycokyb ga toshicy, decejoop goplul," the creature said.
"Totally rad," Rob said. "Care to repeat that in English?"
"Grease cactus bolt cutter beeswax foot mumble to country meadow," the thing chortled.
"Tailfeathers. You can go back to your native language now. While you're at it, maybe you should go back to your native planet."
"Bokiwyla calculator klojypadag."
"Why don't you take your calculator and shove it in your thigh?" Rob retorted.
The creature looked garrulous. "Leboohuka slegoocanood apedoob, poocicood," it chortled. "Maghifood!" it continued.
"Your face is a maghifood!"
He didn't know why he was being so mouthy to the strange, adorable creature; he was feeling unusually desperate. He tended to deal with the unknown the way he would deal with an annoying salesman or convenience store clerk. If he had been carrying a silver bullet, 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 Park will be delighted to see you."
The creature flounced slightly and flushed. Then it rose up on its worn legs, puffed out its funny bone and scampered kindly toward him.
For the first time, Rob had the urge to run, but his thigh was freezing and his legs refused to move.
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