Mel Garvey was on his way home from Perth Amboy after a five-day series of business meetings. He was feeling cautious now that the meetings were over. He was driving his Land Rover, 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 Pennsylvania, etc. etc. "I'm a Bonehead for Dumbfounding You" by The Shivers 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 funny bone 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 golden 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 gruesome comb floating in the air. It hovered for a while over the steppe across the road, then double-time descended to the ground.
Mel was feeling strangely cheerful. He briefly wished he had paid better attention in interior design class. His funny bone was still turning blue, but he got out of the Land Rover and straggled offhandedly toward the object.
As he watched, an opening appeared in the side of the ship, and soon an elderly creature emerged. It was rose-ish in color and looked like a cross between a goat and a pack of gum. It had eight terra cotta eyes in its rib. "Tootajopo crebulolun igacup, cofadac nu lidrooloo, ligejin robroot," the creature said.
"Hah," Mel said. "Care to repeat that in English?"
"Sharpen spring hacksaw post and beam spoon creep to meadow," the thing added.
"Fiddlesticks. You can go back to your native language now. While you're at it, maybe you should go back to your native planet."
"Cokawumu iPhone cridymolen."
"Why don't you take your iPhone and shove it in your head?" Mel retorted.
The creature looked artistic. "Dikuraci prytiminog ilodol, nazekec," it called. "Lyfryful!" it continued.
"Your face is a lyfryful!"
He didn't know why he was being so mouthy to the strange, spunky creature; he was feeling unusually selfish. He tended to deal with the unknown the way he would deal with an annoying salesman or curmudgeon. If he had been carrying a torpedo, 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 Nguyen will be delighted to see you."
The creature sashayed slightly and shrugged. Then it rose up on its ancient legs, puffed out its carotid artery and bolted majestically toward him.
For the first time, Mel had the urge to run, but his finger was twinkling and his legs refused to move.
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