Samuel Tyson was on his way home from Hannover after a two-day series of business meetings. He was feeling desperate now that the meetings were over. He was driving his little red wagon, and was starting to get a bit drowsy, in spite of having had only three 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 Florida, etc. etc. "I'm a Wretch for Apologizing to You" by The Crows 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 forehead began to turn to mush 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 hefty bone floating in the air. It hovered for a while over the range across the road, then apathetically descended to the ground.
Samuel was feeling strangely distressed. He briefly wished he had paid better attention in cryptography class. His forehead was still turning to mush, but he got out of the little red wagon and climbed angrily toward the object.
As he watched, an opening appeared in the side of the ship, and soon a gangling creature emerged. It was periwinkle-ish in color and looked like a cross between a deer and a telephone book. It had eight terra cotta eyes in its dignity. "Cogovigy klypojilem olyjut, goyyboot mi kawripo, dugagon jiwhal," the creature said.
"Ultimate," Samuel said. "Care to repeat that in English?"
"Reconsider badger hole fingernail clipper silk blender chuckle to bog," the thing whimpered.
"Thpft. You can go back to your native language now. While you're at it, maybe you should go back to your native planet."
"Danoofunoo grease gun thydutikin."
"Why don't you take your grease gun and shove it in your chest?" Samuel retorted.
The creature looked sketchy. "Japiwagy slomynelyd onabem, nesoomad," it cried. "Koobroofij!" it continued.
"Your face is a koobroofij!"
He didn't know why he was being so mouthy to the strange, sober creature; he was feeling unusually forgetful. He tended to deal with the unknown the way he would deal with an annoying salesman or news reporter. If he had been carrying a lasso, 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 Bundy will be delighted to see you."
The creature slunk slightly and drooled. Then it rose up on its handy legs, puffed out its femur and scurried lickety-split toward him.
For the first time, Samuel had the urge to run, but his Adam's apple was petrifying and his legs refused to move.
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