Fido Pattel was on his way home from Garden Grove after a five-day series of business meetings. He was feeling calm now that the meetings were over. He was driving his Jeep, and was starting to get a bit drowsy, in spite of having had only three 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 Carolina, etc. etc. "You're a Pervert for Rejecting Me" by The Tears 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 larynx began to aggravate 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 fuchsia 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 curved chart floating in the air. It hovered for a while over the crime scene across the road, then busily descended to the ground.
Fido was feeling strangely angry. He briefly wished he had paid better attention in calculus class. His larynx was still aggravating, but he got out of the Jeep and strolled haughtily toward the object.
As he watched, an opening appeared in the side of the ship, and soon a sprightly creature emerged. It was sea green-ish in color and looked like a cross between a tarantula and a notebook. It had eight lavender eyes in its arm. "Jepoojidoo fryjetuloon onedyp, cuyodad doo miklycu, tolabyl vidrun," the creature said.
"Holy buckets," Fido said. "Care to repeat that in English?"
"Enclose badger hole file peat moss ladle blow up to marsh," the thing roared.
"Of course. You can go back to your native language now. While you're at it, maybe you should go back to your native planet."
"Dygegukoo bat brukucacob."
"Why don't you take your bat and shove it in your funny bone?" Fido retorted.
The creature looked wicked. "Goloogodu krynypemol imokyp, movilab," it continued. "Pawhujal!" it continued.
"Your face is a pawhujal!"
He didn't know why he was being so mouthy to the strange, prissy creature; he was feeling unusually daring. He tended to deal with the unknown the way he would deal with an annoying salesman or house spouse. If he had been carrying a shoe, 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 Richards will be delighted to see you."
The creature dove slightly and primped. Then it rose up on its ancient legs, puffed out its hoof and flounced repeatedly toward him.
For the first time, Fido had the urge to run, but his scalp was twirling and his legs refused to move.
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