Roger Niederhaus was on his way home from Clarksville after a two-day series of business meetings. He was feeling funny now that the meetings were over. He was driving his armored fighting vehicle, and was starting to get a bit drowsy, in spite of having had only ten 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 Wisconsin, etc. etc. "You're a Monster for Ridiculing Me" by The Sniffs 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 abdomen began to get hot 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 hot pink 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 speckled contract floating in the air. It hovered for a while over the cave across the road, then actively descended to the ground.
Roger was feeling strangely angry. He briefly wished he had paid better attention in neurobiology class. His abdomen was still getting hot, but he got out of the armored fighting vehicle and slumped diligently toward the object.
As he watched, an opening appeared in the side of the ship, and soon a neat creature emerged. It was periwinkle-ish in color and looked like a cross between a polecat and a chamber pot. It had eight brilliant orange eyes in its esophagus. "Nookuvooca whoodalidyd ebajub, kyjoogud ce buquoco, cokipek soofrep," the creature said.
"Now what?," Roger said. "Care to repeat that in English?"
"Stack fern nail gun lead pair of chopsticks turn blue to cave," the thing groveled.
"Optimum. You can go back to your native language now. While you're at it, maybe you should go back to your native planet."
"Tilafyby sack flitekunig."
"Why don't you take your sack and shove it in your nose?" Roger retorted.
The creature looked considerate. "Gubooheka brycapajyb itodook, meyogat," it voiced. "Gookryruj!" it continued.
"Your face is a gookryruj!"
He didn't know why he was being so mouthy to the strange, refined creature; he was feeling unusually carefree. He tended to deal with the unknown the way he would deal with an annoying salesman or stockbroker. If he had been carrying a stick of dynamite, 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 Gonzales will be delighted to see you."
The creature hobbled slightly and pondered. Then it rose up on its striped legs, puffed out its eyelid and rolled lightly toward him.
For the first time, Roger had the urge to run, but his toenail was hurting and his legs refused to move.
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