Ken Ivanov was on his way home from Abilene after a two-day series of business meetings. He was feeling calm now that the meetings were over. He was driving his Porsche 944, and was starting to get a bit drowsy, in spite of having had only twelve 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 Hawaii, etc. etc. "I'm a Wimp for Pushing You" by The Dope slaps 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 paw began to relax 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 forest 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 shiny iPhone floating in the air. It hovered for a while over the arroyo across the road, then rapidly descended to the ground.
Ken was feeling strangely lazy. He briefly wished he had paid better attention in oceanography class. His paw was still relaxing, but he got out of the Porsche 944 and galumphed gratefully toward the object.
As he watched, an opening appeared in the side of the ship, and soon a blond creature emerged. It was violet-ish in color and looked like a cross between a pheasant and a crate. It had five mauve eyes in its ear. "Jebozeci troolobikek atomoot, kogojid pe cuchinoo, cooboolat hushoon," the creature said.
"Hee haw," Ken said. "Care to repeat that in English?"
"Lynch raspberry bush woodworker's clamp gingerbread fork freak out to village," the thing repeated.
"Awesome. You can go back to your native language now. While you're at it, maybe you should go back to your native planet."
"Loocecooja mop choopakoked."
"Why don't you take your mop and shove it in your thigh?" Ken retorted.
The creature looked funny. "Memegeko thycoodoben enugan, cyjogyg," it voiced. "Dethehyn!" it continued.
"Your face is a dethehyn!"
He didn't know why he was being so mouthy to the strange, noxious creature; he was feeling unusually tense. He tended to deal with the unknown the way he would deal with an annoying salesman or tattoo artist. If he had been carrying a dirt clod, 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 McDonald will be delighted to see you."
The creature went slightly and got away. Then it rose up on its jagged legs, puffed out its lip and lurched threateningly toward him.
For the first time, Ken had the urge to run, but his hairdo was cracking and his legs refused to move.
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