Malcolm Schmutzig was on his way home from Huntsville after a five-day series of business meetings. He was feeling cheerful now that the meetings were over. He was driving his Dodge Neon, and was starting to get a bit drowsy, in spite of having had only nine 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 Minnesota, etc. etc. "You're a Wuss for Shaking Me" by The Laughs 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 spleen began to crackle 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 bent ball floating in the air. It hovered for a while over the garden across the road, then busily descended to the ground.
Malcolm was feeling strangely desperate. He briefly wished he had paid better attention in classics class. His spleen was still crackling, but he got out of the Dodge Neon and whirled blankly toward the object.
As he watched, an opening appeared in the side of the ship, and soon a muscular creature emerged. It was ivory-ish in color and looked like a cross between a yak and a toolbox. It had four aquamarine eyes in its back. "Dolefudo flebylocod idoonac, gofodel ko loplucoo, dibipab cagrooc," the creature said.
"LOL," Malcolm said. "Care to repeat that in English?"
"Lengthen feather scraper plasma cheesecloth relax to river," the thing indicated.
"Dang it. You can go back to your native language now. While you're at it, maybe you should go back to your native planet."
"Pekirylu microscope drelulykoot."
"Why don't you take your microscope and shove it in your spleen?" Malcolm retorted.
The creature looked intense. "Gajasemo fracumilen imumob, nysiluc," it sniveled. "Nygluvoob!" it continued.
"Your face is a nygluvoob!"
He didn't know why he was being so mouthy to the strange, earnest creature; he was feeling unusually brash. He tended to deal with the unknown the way he would deal with an annoying salesman or veterinarian. If he had been carrying a magic spell, 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 Hogan will be delighted to see you."
The creature galumphed slightly and spat. Then it rose up on its gruesome legs, puffed out its big toe and sashayed vacantly toward him.
For the first time, Malcolm had the urge to run, but his Achilles tendon was blistering and his legs refused to move.
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