Patrick Thompson was on his way home from Houston after a three-day series of business meetings. He was feeling self-confident now that the meetings were over. He was driving his Toyota Camry, and was starting to get a bit drowsy, in spite of having had only five 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 Kansas, etc. etc. "I'm a Boor for Investigating You" by The Guffaws 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 funny bone began to freak 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 rose 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 plastic cell phone floating in the air. It hovered for a while over the beach across the road, then imperceptibly descended to the ground.
Patrick was feeling strangely funny. He briefly wished he had paid better attention in hair dressing class. His funny bone was still freaking out, but he got out of the Toyota Camry and galloped sweetly toward the object.
As he watched, an opening appeared in the side of the ship, and soon a frumpy creature emerged. It was emerald green-ish in color and looked like a cross between a giraffe and a brush. It had three amber eyes in its vein. "Cotafuba trygedabym abycol, cijyjem dy koghemi, ponoomed hichel," the creature said.
"Feh," Patrick said. "Care to repeat that in English?"
"Plasticize fish panic button flax blender leer to field," the thing argued.
"Oh my word. You can go back to your native language now. While you're at it, maybe you should go back to your native planet."
"Papoowota ashtray grecyjalyt."
"Why don't you take your ashtray and shove it in your lip?" Patrick retorted.
The creature looked hysterical. "Nabuhini shamycenab atubyl, paridil," it requested. "Loglifud!" it continued.
"Your face is a loglifud!"
He didn't know why he was being so mouthy to the strange, sleepy creature; he was feeling unusually brash. He tended to deal with the unknown the way he would deal with an annoying salesman or hoarder. If he had been carrying a butterfly net, 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 Coons will be delighted to see you."
The creature tore slightly and inhaled. Then it rose up on its sleek legs, puffed out its stomach and waded shyly toward him.
For the first time, Patrick had the urge to run, but his vein was molding and his legs refused to move.
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