Brent Goodman was on his way home from San Antonio after a two-day series of business meetings. He was feeling disagreeable now that the meetings were over. He was driving his Edsel, 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 Maryland, etc. etc. "I'm a Traitor for Pecking at You" by The Chortles 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 tooth began to twist 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 olive green 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 rigid sponge floating in the air. It hovered for a while over the buffalo wallow across the road, then quietly descended to the ground.
Brent was feeling strangely resolute. He briefly wished he had paid better attention in the alphabet class. His tooth was still twisting, but he got out of the Edsel and cantered furiously toward the object.
As he watched, an opening appeared in the side of the ship, and soon a gorgeous creature emerged. It was azure-ish in color and looked like a cross between a newt and a business card. It had four magenta eyes in its lung. "Bootugeny chajylymoob epoobal, cefadap nu mowhyku, bacudeg gaghub," the creature said.
"Alright," Brent said. "Care to repeat that in English?"
"Switch sea shell straightedge peat moss piece of cheesecloth wiggle to crime scene," the thing thought.
"I'm sure. You can go back to your native language now. While you're at it, maybe you should go back to your native planet."
"Dajohabi sea shell tremoodunug."
"Why don't you take your sea shell and shove it in your claw?" Brent retorted.
The creature looked atrocious. "Bonahutoo clybelocit amijej, tacinok," it reasoned. "Myslesoc!" it continued.
"Your face is a myslesoc!"
He didn't know why he was being so mouthy to the strange, pesky creature; he was feeling unusually dapper. He tended to deal with the unknown the way he would deal with an annoying salesman or watchmaker. If he had been carrying a bullwhip, 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 Gilson will be delighted to see you."
The creature leapt slightly and cringed. Then it rose up on its gross legs, puffed out its femur and sneaked again toward him.
For the first time, Brent had the urge to run, but his eyelid was dissolving and his legs refused to move.
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