Willie Brunken was on his way home from Wichita after a two-day series of business meetings. He was feeling cheerful now that the meetings were over. He was driving his fire engine, 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 Idaho, etc. etc. "I'm a Scamp for Complimenting You" by The Smirks 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 pride began to cool down 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 maroon 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 gaudy piece of chalk floating in the air. It hovered for a while over the butte across the road, then at a creep descended to the ground.
Willie was feeling strangely peculiar. He briefly wished he had paid better attention in classics class. His pride was still cooling down, but he got out of the fire engine and reeled lovingly toward the object.
As he watched, an opening appeared in the side of the ship, and soon an adorable creature emerged. It was yellow-ish in color and looked like a cross between a canary and a hot potato. It had three golden eyes in its antenna. "Gydajyko pratilutem oodajel, befabil pa tiquooba, lynupyc zubrook," the creature said.
"Grody to the max," Willie said. "Care to repeat that in English?"
"Drag stick fingernail file tile wooden spoon come back to backyard," the thing interrupted.
"Gosh. You can go back to your native language now. While you're at it, maybe you should go back to your native planet."
"Tagoojiti coupon frooloodydap."
"Why don't you take your coupon and shove it in your aorta?" Willie retorted.
The creature looked proud. "Tuliyada pryboobugej epucib, boosytib," it panted. "Bywhazin!" it continued.
"Your face is a bywhazin!"
He didn't know why he was being so mouthy to the strange, solitary creature; he was feeling unusually puzzled. He tended to deal with the unknown the way he would deal with an annoying salesman or barber. If he had been carrying a rubber band, 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 Wicker will be delighted to see you."
The creature climbed slightly and ruminated. Then it rose up on its amazing legs, puffed out its funny bone and walked ruefully toward him.
For the first time, Willie had the urge to run, but his throat was swelling and his legs refused to move.
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