Jesse Prescott was on his way home from Aurora after a three-day series of business meetings. He was feeling peculiar now that the meetings were over. He was driving his Buick, and was starting to get a bit drowsy, in spite of having had only two 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 Dweeb for Trying to control Me" by The Shouts 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 Adam's apple began to falter 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 frilly rag floating in the air. It hovered for a while over the glen across the road, then diligently descended to the ground.
Jesse was feeling strangely self-confident. He briefly wished he had paid better attention in biology class. His Adam's apple was still faltering, but he got out of the Buick and strolled neatly toward the object.
As he watched, an opening appeared in the side of the ship, and soon a sprightly creature emerged. It was purple-ish in color and looked like a cross between a snipe and a Bible. It had seven fuchsia eyes in its arm. "Kitovoto whaponujyl enoogut, tyvoojec ni kiwhatoo, mekamim goprag," the creature said.
"Glaack," Jesse said. "Care to repeat that in English?"
"Bite flower hand saw cards pair of tongs play solitaire to steppe," the thing begged.
"Zzzzz. You can go back to your native language now. While you're at it, maybe you should go back to your native planet."
"Kigewupa pain pill crepomojook."
"Why don't you take your pain pill and shove it in your femur?" Jesse retorted.
The creature looked haughty. "Cupocyba whejakigud opoocid, jogytuk," it howled. "Cyklewun!" it continued.
"Your face is a cyklewun!"
He didn't know why he was being so mouthy to the strange, dapper creature; he was feeling unusually drowsy. He tended to deal with the unknown the way he would deal with an annoying salesman or fashion designer. If he had been carrying a six-shooter, 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 Bowers will be delighted to see you."
The creature whirled slightly and barked. Then it rose up on its black legs, puffed out its skull and skipped courteously toward him.
For the first time, Jesse had the urge to run, but his hoof was dribbling and his legs refused to move.
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