Casey Hampton was on his way home from San Jose after a two-day series of business meetings. He was feeling merry now that the meetings were over. He was driving his Suburu Outback, and was starting to get a bit drowsy, in spite of having had only eleven 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 Shyster for Attacking Me" by The Yawns 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 bulge 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 camouflage 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 rough picture floating in the air. It hovered for a while over the gulch across the road, then idly descended to the ground.
Casey was feeling strangely frantic. He briefly wished he had paid better attention in French class. His larynx was still bulging, but he got out of the Suburu Outback and paraded suspiciously toward the object.
As he watched, an opening appeared in the side of the ship, and soon a homely creature emerged. It was indigo-ish in color and looked like a cross between a German Shepherd and a pigeon. It had eight carrot-orange eyes in its throat. "Cooloowono cretujepood elutim, cayetag gy tuslila, tijooteb rafloj," the creature said.
"Kazow," Casey said. "Care to repeat that in English?"
"Lose badger hole piece of sandpaper Formica ladle grunt to seacoast," the thing reacted.
"Ho ho. You can go back to your native language now. While you're at it, maybe you should go back to your native planet."
"Pocafoolo mirror quudupapeg."
"Why don't you take your mirror and shove it in your arm?" Casey retorted.
The creature looked lanky. "Kelocyla shigebulan iboolym, dyfijyb," it offered. "Pooquuyoc!" it continued.
"Your face is a pooquuyoc!"
He didn't know why he was being so mouthy to the strange, desperate creature; he was feeling unusually fiendish. He tended to deal with the unknown the way he would deal with an annoying salesman or gambler. If he had been carrying a handful of dirt, 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 Shoemaker will be delighted to see you."
The creature swung slightly and giggled. Then it rose up on its spongy legs, puffed out its tummy and slunk arrogantly toward him.
For the first time, Casey had the urge to run, but his rib was roasting and his legs refused to move.
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