Salvatore MacIntire was on his way home from New Delhi after a five-day series of business meetings. He was feeling modest now that the meetings were over. He was driving his Fiat, and was starting to get a bit drowsy, in spite of having had only five 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 Nevada, etc. etc. "You're a Moron for Soothing Me" by The Chuckles 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 wrist began to hang 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 ivory 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 magnificent baseball bat floating in the air. It hovered for a while over the island across the road, then lethargically descended to the ground.
Salvatore was feeling strangely resolute. He briefly wished he had paid better attention in nutrition class. His wrist was still hanging, but he got out of the Fiat and bounced slowly toward the object.
As he watched, an opening appeared in the side of the ship, and soon a smallish creature emerged. It was black-ish in color and looked like a cross between a bison and a Kindle. It had six jade eyes in its adrenal gland. "Pymiyike wrinydogym ecunyb, kerebyg no koothicu, dymuben hothoot," the creature said.
"Blaak," Salvatore said. "Care to repeat that in English?"
"Spray bird's nest powder puff dream and vision dish cloth creep to pond," the thing scoffed.
"Cease and desist. You can go back to your native language now. While you're at it, maybe you should go back to your native planet."
"Boolefemy church key frylakubyj."
"Why don't you take your church key and shove it in your tooth?" Salvatore retorted.
The creature looked sober. "Kilucani phumemyjok yjoodug, tyjyked," it mouthed. "Biwrijac!" it continued.
"Your face is a biwrijac!"
He didn't know why he was being so mouthy to the strange, childish creature; he was feeling unusually puzzled. He tended to deal with the unknown the way he would deal with an annoying salesman or proofreader. 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 Samaniego will be delighted to see you."
The creature strolled slightly and trembled. Then it rose up on its imitation legs, puffed out its back and ran shyly toward him.
For the first time, Salvatore had the urge to run, but his antenna was perspiring and his legs refused to move.
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