Kris Robinson was on his way home from Anchorage after a three-day series of business meetings. He was feeling excitable now that the meetings were over. He was driving his Bentley, 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 New Mexico, etc. etc. "You're a Dimwit for Maligning Me" by The Raspberries 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 eyeball began to flare up 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 violet 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 electric pair of binoculars floating in the air. It hovered for a while over the meadow across the road, then dreamily descended to the ground.
Kris was feeling strangely crafty. He briefly wished he had paid better attention in philosophy class. His eyeball was still flaring up, but he got out of the Bentley and trotted anxiously toward the object.
As he watched, an opening appeared in the side of the ship, and soon an eye-catching creature emerged. It was periwinkle-ish in color and looked like a cross between a lobster and a towel. It had five lime-green eyes in its claw. "Boolegogy drykutilyj ajidab, lizutooc nu bowrooty, madakaj wodrul," the creature said.
"Whew," Kris said. "Care to repeat that in English?"
"Lynch tree stump jackhammer steel sharp knife squeak to neighborhood," the thing moaned.
"Holy mackerel. You can go back to your native language now. While you're at it, maybe you should go back to your native planet."
"Decigytu pair of scissors phunulilit."
"Why don't you take your pair of scissors and shove it in your back?" Kris retorted.
The creature looked stylish. "Gumovuci whugyjepic oboodub, kofiluc," it brought up. "Nofloozyd!" it continued.
"Your face is a nofloozyd!"
He didn't know why he was being so mouthy to the strange, crazy creature; he was feeling unusually calm. He tended to deal with the unknown the way he would deal with an annoying salesman or yoga instructor. If he had been carrying a fishing pole, 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 Ulster will be delighted to see you."
The creature loped slightly and panted. Then it rose up on its torn legs, puffed out its carotid artery and cantered smoothly toward him.
For the first time, Kris had the urge to run, but his eyelash was shriveling and his legs refused to move.
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