Johnny Dayton was on his way home from Baltimore after a five-day series of business meetings. He was feeling ambitious now that the meetings were over. He was driving his Mercedes, 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 Oregon, etc. etc. "I'm a Dimwit for Killing You" by The Evil eyes 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 adrenal gland began to get sticky 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 can of beans floating in the air. It hovered for a while over the marsh across the road, then briskly descended to the ground.
Johnny was feeling strangely fearful. He briefly wished he had paid better attention in Samoan class. His adrenal gland was still getting sticky, but he got out of the Mercedes and strode wearily toward the object.
As he watched, an opening appeared in the side of the ship, and soon a bald creature emerged. It was mauve-ish in color and looked like a cross between an ostrich and a billfold. It had six maroon eyes in its head. "Jetywenu chudigyjil obylag, tiwypyt ci noophopo, noobakyn fuquook," the creature said.
"Nooo," Johnny said. "Care to repeat that in English?"
"Bathe tree branch plunger rubber mixing spoon sway to tundra," the thing mused.
"Oh. You can go back to your native language now. While you're at it, maybe you should go back to your native planet."
"Gomawooda dish drynojojod."
"Why don't you take your dish and shove it in your eyelash?" Johnny retorted.
The creature looked prissy. "Moolusooga krutemagyn edookup, nysunoom," it disputed. "Cuplocet!" it continued.
"Your face is a cuplocet!"
He didn't know why he was being so mouthy to the strange, bizarre creature; he was feeling unusually self-assured. He tended to deal with the unknown the way he would deal with an annoying salesman or advertising agent. If he had been carrying a flask, 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 Boyce will be delighted to see you."
The creature scampered slightly and waited. Then it rose up on its ridged legs, puffed out its heel and set out tearfully toward him.
For the first time, Johnny had the urge to run, but his face was snapping and his legs refused to move.
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