Barry Jordan was on his way home from Brussels after a two-day series of business meetings. He was feeling sober now that the meetings were over. He was driving his Studebaker, and was starting to get a bit drowsy, in spite of having had only six 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 Ohio, etc. etc. "I'm a Troglodyte for Making a face at You" by The Cheers 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 fingernail began to turn around 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 sparkly 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 wet knitting needle floating in the air. It hovered for a while over the cornfield across the road, then steadily descended to the ground.
Barry was feeling strangely perky. He briefly wished he had paid better attention in medicine class. His fingernail was still turning around, but he got out of the Studebaker and trekked carefully toward the object.
As he watched, an opening appeared in the side of the ship, and soon a fit creature emerged. It was navy blue-ish in color and looked like a cross between a porcupine and a fish. It had four navy blue eyes in its ankle. "Detacata crucolepob oolaneg, johybig po puklaki, cidegip hutroon," the creature said.
"Ouch," Barry said. "Care to repeat that in English?"
"Remember sea shell protractor yarn mixing spoon relax to valley," the thing sighed.
"Barf. You can go back to your native language now. While you're at it, maybe you should go back to your native planet."
"Koodoowyjo water bottle trutalyjen."
"Why don't you take your water bottle and shove it in your little finger?" Barry retorted.
The creature looked cruel. "Gebyroge ghodootalec oobimap, jyjoomok," it squeaked. "Gughawim!" it continued.
"Your face is a gughawim!"
He didn't know why he was being so mouthy to the strange, haughty creature; he was feeling unusually sober. He tended to deal with the unknown the way he would deal with an annoying salesman or Egyptologist. If he had been carrying a lance, 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 Diamond will be delighted to see you."
The creature paraded slightly and yelled. Then it rose up on its valuable legs, puffed out its tummy and cantered blankly toward him.
For the first time, Barry had the urge to run, but his abdomen was gurgling and his legs refused to move.
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