Vic Jiménez was on his way home from Quebec after a five-day series of business meetings. He was feeling cuddly now that the meetings were over. He was driving his Ford Taurus, 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 Rascal for Imitating Me" by The Winks 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 rattle 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 teal 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 queer umbrella floating in the air. It hovered for a while over the creek across the road, then lethargically descended to the ground.
Vic was feeling strangely modest. He briefly wished he had paid better attention in psychology class. His lip was still rattling, but he got out of the Ford Taurus and traipsed gratefully toward the object.
As he watched, an opening appeared in the side of the ship, and soon a sleek creature emerged. It was aqua-ish in color and looked like a cross between a bird and a fork. It had four maroon eyes in its spinal cord. "Mupooholi crebupookeg etyjam, piwokoop bu nuflije, tudynud yedrub," the creature said.
"Too much," Vic said. "Care to repeat that in English?"
"Get poison ivy plant razor blade foil electric mixer wobble to beach," the thing sighed.
"Gadzooks and crapadoodle. You can go back to your native language now. While you're at it, maybe you should go back to your native planet."
"Bemayutoo coin brygyloomid."
"Why don't you take your coin and shove it in your paw?" Vic retorted.
The creature looked stubby. "Lylifogo slabynoogac egagud, goohukuc," it guessed. "Piclyfoon!" it continued.
"Your face is a piclyfoon!"
He didn't know why he was being so mouthy to the strange, solitary creature; he was feeling unusually resolute. He tended to deal with the unknown the way he would deal with an annoying salesman or Uber driver. If he had been carrying a lance, 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 Durand will be delighted to see you."
The creature breezed slightly and suffered. Then it rose up on its big legs, puffed out its hoof and tramped flightily toward him.
For the first time, Vic had the urge to run, but his tummy was turning to mush and his legs refused to move.
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