Mel Van Dorn was on his way home from Arlington after a five-day series of business meetings. He was feeling peckish now that the meetings were over. He was driving his Mustang Convertible, and was starting to get a bit drowsy, in spite of having had only eight 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 Michigan, etc. etc. "I'm a Dolt for Challenging You" by The Sighs 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 tongue began to crumble 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 brown 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 hand-carved basketball floating in the air. It hovered for a while over the butte across the road, then quietly descended to the ground.
Mel was feeling strangely queer. He briefly wished he had paid better attention in manners class. His tongue was still crumbling, but he got out of the Mustang Convertible and loped fearfully toward the object.
As he watched, an opening appeared in the side of the ship, and soon a feeble creature emerged. It was white-ish in color and looked like a cross between a poodle and a socket wrench. It had four ivory eyes in its eye. "Leborooni fletunogic ytytoog, joozimul me pydrenu, jabacoog fooklub," the creature said.
"What in tarnation," Mel said. "Care to repeat that in English?"
"Clean sea shell blow torch post and beam corkscrew scream to housing development," the thing amended.
"Man alive. You can go back to your native language now. While you're at it, maybe you should go back to your native planet."
"Ketugoomu pillow critigoolod."
"Why don't you take your pillow and shove it in your antenna?" Mel retorted.
The creature looked agile. "Nacezyla plegoomucol oolelal, jarukib," it reasoned. "Piwrihool!" it continued.
"Your face is a piwrihool!"
He didn't know why he was being so mouthy to the strange, lanky creature; he was feeling unusually excitable. He tended to deal with the unknown the way he would deal with an annoying salesman or school principal. If he had been carrying a handful of dirt, 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 Quintana will be delighted to see you."
The creature careened slightly and raised an eyebrow. Then it rose up on its ridiculous legs, puffed out its belly button and galloped lazily toward him.
For the first time, Mel had the urge to run, but his artery was shivering and his legs refused to move.
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