Roman Sorensen was on his way home from Frisco after a three-day series of business meetings. He was feeling petulant now that the meetings were over. He was driving his Toyota 4Runner, 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 New Jersey, etc. etc. "You're a Nitwit for Cozying up to Me" by The Hugs 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 spinal cord began to rumble 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 hot pink 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 coconut floating in the air. It hovered for a while over the mountainside across the road, then deliberately descended to the ground.
Roman was feeling strangely tired. He briefly wished he had paid better attention in painting class. His spinal cord was still rumbling, but he got out of the Toyota 4Runner and flew uneasily toward the object.
As he watched, an opening appeared in the side of the ship, and soon a youthful creature emerged. It was striped-ish in color and looked like a cross between a peacock and an ingot of plutonium. It had seven burgundy eyes in its tooth. "Gupuryto bracoopoojup oopelok, cygujyn jy laplaby, bojodug wyquoom," the creature said.
"Holy Mother of Petunias," Roman said. "Care to repeat that in English?"
"Push bit of litter glue gun plywood foot dawdle to creek," the thing wailed.
"Ick. You can go back to your native language now. While you're at it, maybe you should go back to your native planet."
"Jutivoote diamond flynookydyj."
"Why don't you take your diamond and shove it in your palm?" Roman retorted.
The creature looked refined. "Tycigoke sludomytyk utedup, moseloc," it wondered. "Kibreyej!" it continued.
"Your face is a kibreyej!"
He didn't know why he was being so mouthy to the strange, annoying creature; he was feeling unusually excitable. He tended to deal with the unknown the way he would deal with an annoying salesman or law clerk. If he had been carrying a hatchet, 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 Keefe will be delighted to see you."
The creature tramped slightly and bawled. Then it rose up on its delicate legs, puffed out its antenna and skidded lovingly toward him.
For the first time, Roman had the urge to run, but his leg was awakening and his legs refused to move.
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