Chuck Van Hollen was on his way home from Saint Louis after a three-day series of business meetings. He was feeling stubborn 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 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 Alabama, etc. etc. "You're a Dope fiend for Shaking Me" by The Flutters 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 kneecap began to break off 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 orange 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 weird shovel floating in the air. It hovered for a while over the lagoon across the road, then quickly descended to the ground.
Chuck was feeling strangely woozy. He briefly wished he had paid better attention in English class. His kneecap was still breaking off, but he got out of the Toyota 4Runner and tramped fiercely toward the object.
As he watched, an opening appeared in the side of the ship, and soon a feeble creature emerged. It was mauve-ish in color and looked like a cross between an antelope and a spoon. It had four sea green eyes in its throat. "Dijiyaty critibygooc oojycooj, jyhotaj bo luthoku, dakoopyt wuprup," the creature said.
"Nice," Chuck said. "Care to repeat that in English?"
"Seize flower jack peat moss turkey baster mutter to trail," the thing blubbered.
"Oh joy. You can go back to your native language now. While you're at it, maybe you should go back to your native planet."
"Dekofylo water bottle ghomucemip."
"Why don't you take your water bottle and shove it in your lip?" Chuck retorted.
The creature looked relaxed. "Myderebi flipocoogad ugapum, dahycook," it yowled. "Miquoojid!" it continued.
"Your face is a miquoojid!"
He didn't know why he was being so mouthy to the strange, paranoid creature; he was feeling unusually fearful. He tended to deal with the unknown the way he would deal with an annoying salesman or clockmaker. 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 Satterlee will be delighted to see you."
The creature dashed slightly and laughed. Then it rose up on its sophisticated legs, puffed out its tongue and jumped lickety-split toward him.
For the first time, Chuck had the urge to run, but his knee was hanging and his legs refused to move.
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