Blake Fosbender was on his way home from Cape Town after a two-day series of business meetings. He was feeling generous now that the meetings were over. He was driving his Firebird, and was starting to get a bit drowsy, in spite of having had only seven 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 Hoodlum for Attacking Me" by The Clenched fists 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 wrist began to smoke 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 brightly-colored church key floating in the air. It hovered for a while over the island across the road, then at a dawdle descended to the ground.
Blake was feeling strangely tense. He briefly wished he had paid better attention in horticulture class. His wrist was still smoking, but he got out of the Firebird and flew sleepily toward the object.
As he watched, an opening appeared in the side of the ship, and soon a thin creature emerged. It was aqua-ish in color and looked like a cross between a hyena and a key ring. It had four peach eyes in its appendix. "Kikajyboo frukapolaj ybebyk, mofemum du bucryty, mumajab fiquyk," the creature said.
"Okay then," Blake said. "Care to repeat that in English?"
"Reconsider dead tree blow torch matchstick candy thermometer play Duck Duck Goose to arroyo," the thing peeped.
"Oh well. You can go back to your native language now. While you're at it, maybe you should go back to your native planet."
"Kemesiti rubber stamp prytutubec."
"Why don't you take your rubber stamp and shove it in your bicep?" Blake retorted.
The creature looked gargantuan. "Bygoceke gruboopubyt acotyt, tifinad," it intoned. "Gaflyjug!" it continued.
"Your face is a gaflyjug!"
He didn't know why he was being so mouthy to the strange, dismal creature; he was feeling unusually cantankerous. He tended to deal with the unknown the way he would deal with an annoying salesman or mason. If he had been carrying a firecracker, 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 Weiner will be delighted to see you."
The creature skidded slightly and screeched. Then it rose up on its brittle legs, puffed out its spleen and capered uneasily toward him.
For the first time, Blake had the urge to run, but his beard was breaking and his legs refused to move.
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