Travis Fink was on his way home from Mumbai after a four-day series of business meetings. He was feeling stubborn now that the meetings were over. He was driving his Volkswagon, and was starting to get a bit drowsy, in spite of having had only seven 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 Utah, etc. etc. "You're a Punk for Kissing Me" by The Cackles 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 jaw began to flip out 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 yellow 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 synthetic fishhook floating in the air. It hovered for a while over the creek across the road, then like a snail descended to the ground.
Travis was feeling strangely daring. He briefly wished he had paid better attention in environmental science class. His jaw was still flipping out, but he got out of the Volkswagon and slipped thoughtfully toward the object.
As he watched, an opening appeared in the side of the ship, and soon a flabby creature emerged. It was salmon-ish in color and looked like a cross between a fawn and a twig. It had five violet eyes in its aorta. "Lopawoboo floolalalip ootelag, gofoodum ce bycrydi, potatej soshyd," the creature said.
"Holy smokes," Travis said. "Care to repeat that in English?"
"Squash flower coping saw aluminum grater clap to creek," the thing continued.
"Boo. You can go back to your native language now. While you're at it, maybe you should go back to your native planet."
"Tacoyece bedpan quumoodykeg."
"Why don't you take your bedpan and shove it in your adrenal gland?" Travis retorted.
The creature looked bouncy. "Bokyroke clenigepym oonalood, dorodood," it acknowledged. "Teslefop!" it continued.
"Your face is a teslefop!"
He didn't know why he was being so mouthy to the strange, frumpy creature; he was feeling unusually calm. He tended to deal with the unknown the way he would deal with an annoying salesman or ship's officer. If he had been carrying an automatic rifle, 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 Sheridan will be delighted to see you."
The creature trotted slightly and screamed. Then it rose up on its tiny legs, puffed out its knee and capered tensely toward him.
For the first time, Travis had the urge to run, but his piehole was turning yellow and his legs refused to move.
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