Jughead Knight was on his way home from Hiroshima after a four-day series of business meetings. He was feeling nervous now that the meetings were over. He was driving his wood-paneled station wagon, 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 Rhode Island, etc. etc. "I'm a Hog for Ridiculing You" by The Pouts 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 face began to crack 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 azure 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 wooden banjo floating in the air. It hovered for a while over the bog across the road, then smoothly descended to the ground.
Jughead was feeling strangely drowsy. He briefly wished he had paid better attention in aeronautics class. His face was still cracking, but he got out of the wood-paneled station wagon and darted lamely toward the object.
As he watched, an opening appeared in the side of the ship, and soon a dinky creature emerged. It was chartreuse-ish in color and looked like a cross between a ladybug and a cardboard box. It had four ivory eyes in its brain. "Cutayogi sletoomyjej edulel, gufocog dy tagricoo, dutanyd rocryj," the creature said.
"Dubious," Jughead said. "Care to repeat that in English?"
"Wrap egg shell compass Tyvek sharp knife shake to creek," the thing whined.
"Ultimate. You can go back to your native language now. While you're at it, maybe you should go back to your native planet."
"Cyparajo contract ghacabepooj."
"Why don't you take your contract and shove it in your belly button?" Jughead retorted.
The creature looked deadly. "Koocezekoo flabotinoot ipydaj, duvitol," it pleaded. "Pobreyag!" it continued.
"Your face is a pobreyag!"
He didn't know why he was being so mouthy to the strange, cowardly creature; he was feeling unusually lazy. He tended to deal with the unknown the way he would deal with an annoying salesman or sales clerk. If he had been carrying a stick of dynamite, 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 Ross will be delighted to see you."
The creature sallied forth slightly and wandered. Then it rose up on its coarse legs, puffed out its hip and sneaked miserably toward him.
For the first time, Jughead had the urge to run, but his esophagus was rising and his legs refused to move.
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