Mikey Mohammadian was on his way home from Billings after a four-day series of business meetings. He was feeling cruel now that the meetings were over. He was driving his magic carpet, 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 Maine, etc. etc. "I'm a Drip for Escaping from You" by The Belches 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 palm began to blister 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 pea 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 bulky watering can floating in the air. It hovered for a while over the meadow across the road, then reluctantly descended to the ground.
Mikey was feeling strangely confident. He briefly wished he had paid better attention in storytelling class. His palm was still blistering, but he got out of the magic carpet and danced crankily toward the object.
As he watched, an opening appeared in the side of the ship, and soon a tall creature emerged. It was aqua-ish in color and looked like a cross between a mosquito and a hair dryer. It had seven purple eyes in its toupee. "Nooloofapa thejibudad otemoj, porulet ni bopropy, lijudoom yuklood," the creature said.
"Ow," Mikey said. "Care to repeat that in English?"
"Darken bear track feather duster bamboo fork flail to wasteland," the thing giggled.
"Brrr. You can go back to your native language now. While you're at it, maybe you should go back to your native planet."
"Pynoovelo stick of gum trolycijoon."
"Why don't you take your stick of gum and shove it in your antenna?" Mikey retorted.
The creature looked big. "Cemovite shonucecac oolilat, gerumood," it yammered. "Tophihag!" it continued.
"Your face is a tophihag!"
He didn't know why he was being so mouthy to the strange, sophisticated creature; he was feeling unusually maniacal. He tended to deal with the unknown the way he would deal with an annoying salesman or machinist. If he had been carrying a Geiger counter, 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 Valentine will be delighted to see you."
The creature sidled slightly and carried on. Then it rose up on its cardboard legs, puffed out its antenna and ambled wryly toward him.
For the first time, Mikey had the urge to run, but his eye was acting up and his legs refused to move.
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