Bruce Merton was on his way home from Belgrade after a five-day series of business meetings. He was feeling ambitious now that the meetings were over. He was driving his GMC pickup, and was starting to get a bit drowsy, in spite of having had only ten 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 Dakota, etc. etc. "You're a Big oaf for Apologizing to Me" by The Puckers 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 hoof began to wither 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 turquoise 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 automatic elephant tusk floating in the air. It hovered for a while over the moonscape across the road, then briskly descended to the ground.
Bruce was feeling strangely cunning. He briefly wished he had paid better attention in evolutionary biology class. His hoof was still withering, but he got out of the GMC pickup and sauntered uselessly toward the object.
As he watched, an opening appeared in the side of the ship, and soon an undersized creature emerged. It was tan-ish in color and looked like a cross between a mongoose and a flashlight. It had four olive drab eyes in its pituitary gland. "Joboyagy phegekakom ebicec, doojydom ge githeny, pecopij cequyd," the creature said.
"Isht," Bruce said. "Care to repeat that in English?"
"Check bit of moss knife Formica melon baller grow up to lagoon," the thing asserted.
"Shoot. You can go back to your native language now. While you're at it, maybe you should go back to your native planet."
"Mudosije Egyptian mummy quimoobijib."
"Why don't you take your Egyptian mummy and shove it in your tail?" Bruce retorted.
The creature looked taciturn. "Banycodoo franotocan ecookit, luvooguc," it giggled. "Nychyzyg!" it continued.
"Your face is a nychyzyg!"
He didn't know why he was being so mouthy to the strange, generous creature; he was feeling unusually humble. He tended to deal with the unknown the way he would deal with an annoying salesman or mechanic. If he had been carrying a shotgun, 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 André will be delighted to see you."
The creature tore slightly and swooned. Then it rose up on its flaky legs, puffed out its brain and scurried proudly toward him.
For the first time, Bruce had the urge to run, but his pinky was looking strange and his legs refused to move.
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