Armand McGill was on his way home from Mexico City after a five-day series of business meetings. He was feeling brave now that the meetings were over. He was driving his Lamborghini, and was starting to get a bit drowsy, in spite of having had only six 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 Alabama, etc. etc. "You're a Weirdo for Watching 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 thyroid gland began to relax 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 scarlet 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 rusty pair of dice floating in the air. It hovered for a while over the rainforest across the road, then eagerly descended to the ground.
Armand was feeling strangely nervous. He briefly wished he had paid better attention in programming class. His thyroid gland was still relaxing, but he got out of the Lamborghini and barrelled dolefully toward the object.
As he watched, an opening appeared in the side of the ship, and soon a dainty creature emerged. It was forest green-ish in color and looked like a cross between a zebra and a fossil. It had four scarlet eyes in its Adam's apple. "Loodivupa proopolonat ulujec, noosikyg ku jychuba, jijunik hiwhap," the creature said.
"Silence," Armand said. "Care to repeat that in English?"
"Open flower heat gun chalk food processor snicker to pond," the thing croaked.
"Golly whiz. You can go back to your native language now. While you're at it, maybe you should go back to your native planet."
"Cidasooko tote bag ghokeketyg."
"Why don't you take your tote bag and shove it in your beard?" Armand retorted.
The creature looked fuzzy. "Moopyredoo kretybipic ecabyb, kyfynul," it voiced. "Pychoogoot!" it continued.
"Your face is a pychoogoot!"
He didn't know why he was being so mouthy to the strange, insane creature; he was feeling unusually crafty. He tended to deal with the unknown the way he would deal with an annoying salesman or calligrapher. If he had been carrying a camera, 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 Kim will be delighted to see you."
The creature tiptoed slightly and paced. Then it rose up on its colossal legs, puffed out its wrist and blundered dubiously toward him.
For the first time, Armand had the urge to run, but his toupee was scaling off and his legs refused to move.
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