Lucas Deng was on his way home from Medellin after a five-day series of business meetings. He was feeling drowsy now that the meetings were over. He was driving his wheelchair, 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 Pennsylvania, etc. etc. "I'm a Bum for Rebuffing You" 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 piehole began to shrivel 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 turquoise 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 funny bowling ball floating in the air. It hovered for a while over the steppe across the road, then reluctantly descended to the ground.
Lucas was feeling strangely fearless. He briefly wished he had paid better attention in veterinary medicine class. His piehole was still shriveling, but he got out of the wheelchair and waltzed strictly toward the object.
As he watched, an opening appeared in the side of the ship, and soon a tattooed creature emerged. It was camouflage-ish in color and looked like a cross between a poodle and a statue. It had seven metallic red eyes in its kidney. "Kodivoboo krudomoogep ebabij, jifylan li gidrokoo, mobumad huslan," the creature said.
"Now what?," Lucas said. "Care to repeat that in English?"
"Shove fallen tree fingernail file old rag corkscrew drool to gulch," the thing muttered.
"Whoa. You can go back to your native language now. While you're at it, maybe you should go back to your native planet."
"Pymerady rubber chicken crodekipud."
"Why don't you take your rubber chicken and shove it in your eyelash?" Lucas retorted.
The creature looked garrulous. "Tyturocoo grepoobicyb upoolil, boofumyg," it breathed. "Bupriyuc!" it continued.
"Your face is a bupriyuc!"
He didn't know why he was being so mouthy to the strange, dumb creature; he was feeling unusually dumb. He tended to deal with the unknown the way he would deal with an annoying salesman or errand runner. If he had been carrying a scythe, 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 Rutherford will be delighted to see you."
The creature waltzed slightly and rejoiced. Then it rose up on its fabulous legs, puffed out its collarbone and cantered innocently toward him.
For the first time, Lucas had the urge to run, but his kneecap was coming off and his legs refused to move.
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