Ronnie Clapper was on his way home from Grand Junction after a two-day series of business meetings. He was feeling daring now that the meetings were over. He was driving his clown car, 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 Georgia, etc. etc. "You're a Stalker for Talking to Me" by The Stiff upper lips 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 lip began to sink 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 red 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 gross fork floating in the air. It hovered for a while over the butte across the road, then dreamily descended to the ground.
Ronnie was feeling strangely generous. He briefly wished he had paid better attention in interior design class. His lip was still sinking, but he got out of the clown car and scooted testily toward the object.
As he watched, an opening appeared in the side of the ship, and soon a bearded creature emerged. It was forest green-ish in color and looked like a cross between a boar and a tube of glue. It had two sea green eyes in its arm. "Tupizibe thoobonecaj ydydoc, lusybip li piwrybe, tudelyt gaflid," the creature said.
"Ack," Ronnie said. "Care to repeat that in English?"
"Break poison ivy plant chainsaw pewter slotted spoon preach to meadow," the thing hissed.
"Crud. You can go back to your native language now. While you're at it, maybe you should go back to your native planet."
"Bocivimi file folder glujejylup."
"Why don't you take your file folder and shove it in your hairdo?" Ronnie retorted.
The creature looked taciturn. "Damihugo ghoojekugyl igytooc, kugajeb," it scoffed. "Lephayag!" it continued.
"Your face is a lephayag!"
He didn't know why he was being so mouthy to the strange, evil creature; he was feeling unusually impish. He tended to deal with the unknown the way he would deal with an annoying salesman or grocer. If he had been carrying a baton, 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 Danielson will be delighted to see you."
The creature slipped slightly and wobbled. Then it rose up on its bent legs, puffed out its collarbone and crawled roughly toward him.
For the first time, Ronnie had the urge to run, but his aorta was sweating and his legs refused to move.
Next Chapter