Bradley Washington was on his way home from Grand Junction after a two-day series of business meetings. He was feeling dapper now that the meetings were over. He was driving his streetcar, 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 North Dakota, etc. etc. "You're a Slubberdegullion for Operating on Me" by The Wrinkled noses 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 hand 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 aqua 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 ruined Bunsen burner floating in the air. It hovered for a while over the pond across the road, then screamingly descended to the ground.
Bradley was feeling strangely irate. He briefly wished he had paid better attention in carpentry class. His hand was still hanging, but he got out of the streetcar and galumphed merrily toward the object.
As he watched, an opening appeared in the side of the ship, and soon a spindly creature emerged. It was amber-ish in color and looked like a cross between a parrot and a bag of groceries. It had five olive drab eyes in its eyebrow. "Cocyyuga ghimybijooc ybanoob, novakuc py noochimoo, nutecip gooplym," the creature said.
"Uh-oh," Bradley said. "Care to repeat that in English?"
"Close apple tree air horn oak spatula cough to moonscape," the thing squeaked.
"Kapow. You can go back to your native language now. While you're at it, maybe you should go back to your native planet."
"Goocisoomi rubber stamp chidetubij."
"Why don't you take your rubber stamp and shove it in your gall bladder?" Bradley retorted.
The creature looked confident. "Lagyzogoo whaloogymyt ootitik, niwupyb," it squeaked. "Diquisook!" it continued.
"Your face is a diquisook!"
He didn't know why he was being so mouthy to the strange, ungainly creature; he was feeling unusually merry. He tended to deal with the unknown the way he would deal with an annoying salesman or innkeeper. If he had been carrying a potato masher, 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 Maxwell will be delighted to see you."
The creature slipped slightly and inhaled. Then it rose up on its bent legs, puffed out its nose and marched noisily toward him.
For the first time, Bradley had the urge to run, but his paw was turning red and his legs refused to move.
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