White Cloud Fink was on his way home from Porto Alegre after a five-day series of business meetings. He was feeling dumb now that the meetings were over. He was driving his Hyundai Sonata, and was starting to get a bit drowsy, in spite of having had only seven 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 Arizona, etc. etc. "You're a Monkey for Greeting Me" by The Fist bumps 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 little toe began to turn blue 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 rose 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 mysterious toilet seat floating in the air. It hovered for a while over the beach across the road, then slackly descended to the ground.
White Cloud was feeling strangely forgetful. He briefly wished he had paid better attention in information science class. His little toe was still turning blue, but he got out of the Hyundai Sonata and cantered carefully toward the object.
As he watched, an opening appeared in the side of the ship, and soon a redheaded creature emerged. It was green-ish in color and looked like a cross between a dachshund and a clam. It had seven striped eyes in its mouth. "Dupyyooko shepokamen ocygook, gizyjooc du jawroomoo, cupokat sichij," the creature said.
"Bless my hide," White Cloud said. "Care to repeat that in English?"
"Shrink wildflower nail gun ash ladle screech to housing development," the thing acknowledged.
"The joke's on you. You can go back to your native language now. While you're at it, maybe you should go back to your native planet."
"Kodevomy padlock wrokybygoom."
"Why don't you take your padlock and shove it in your heart?" White Cloud retorted.
The creature looked earnest. "Gikycoopa chutimunoc elumon, juseloot," it panted. "Cughyhym!" it continued.
"Your face is a cughyhym!"
He didn't know why he was being so mouthy to the strange, ignoble creature; he was feeling unusually fearful. He tended to deal with the unknown the way he would deal with an annoying salesman or bicycle messenger. If he had been carrying a butterfly net, 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 Wagner will be delighted to see you."
The creature skittered slightly and coughed. Then it rose up on its shiny legs, puffed out its intestine and clambered positively toward him.
For the first time, White Cloud had the urge to run, but his carotid artery was relaxing and his legs refused to move.
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