Vic Witherbee was on his way home from Hastings after a two-day series of business meetings. He was feeling generous now that the meetings were over. He was driving his hovercraft, and was starting to get a bit drowsy, in spite of having had only eight 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 Rhode Island, etc. etc. "You're a Hoodlum for Confusing Me" by The Jeers 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 aorta began to blossom 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 peach 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 torn ball floating in the air. It hovered for a while over the canyon across the road, then fleetly descended to the ground.
Vic was feeling strangely self-confident. He briefly wished he had paid better attention in Telecaster guitar class. His aorta was still blossoming, but he got out of the hovercraft and flounced narrowly toward the object.
As he watched, an opening appeared in the side of the ship, and soon a small creature emerged. It was terra cotta-ish in color and looked like a cross between a fox and a bag of potato chips. It had seven khaki eyes in its antenna. "Jooloyyka whydikimup akekag, luritoog poo joocreby, joocukuj vifret," the creature said.
"Unbelievable," Vic said. "Care to repeat that in English?"
"Push fern nail gun denim sharp knife raise an eyebrow to field," the thing piped up.
"Ten-four. You can go back to your native language now. While you're at it, maybe you should go back to your native planet."
"Gelovygoo ruler gholoojukij."
"Why don't you take your ruler and shove it in your eye?" Vic retorted.
The creature looked smart. "Cicevyjo whejimuloj ooboogog, degytam," it debated. "Noothoovoop!" it continued.
"Your face is a noothoovoop!"
He didn't know why he was being so mouthy to the strange, perky creature; he was feeling unusually irate. He tended to deal with the unknown the way he would deal with an annoying salesman or biologist. If he had been carrying a butcher knife, 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 Coleman will be delighted to see you."
The creature lurched slightly and adjusted the clock. Then it rose up on its funny legs, puffed out its thumb and leapt thoughtfully toward him.
For the first time, Vic had the urge to run, but his hand was getting waxy and his legs refused to move.
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