Studs Pattel was on his way home from Pittsburgh after a four-day series of business meetings. He was feeling selfish now that the meetings were over. He was driving his Studebaker, and was starting to get a bit drowsy, in spite of having had only six 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 South Dakota, etc. etc. "You're a Hell-raiser for Writing Me" by The Blushes 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 eyeball began to harden 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 purple 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 electronic box of candy floating in the air. It hovered for a while over the lagoon across the road, then ploddingly descended to the ground.
Studs was feeling strangely crafty. He briefly wished he had paid better attention in ciphering class. His eyeball was still hardening, but he got out of the Studebaker and climbed jokingly toward the object.
As he watched, an opening appeared in the side of the ship, and soon a neat creature emerged. It was navy blue-ish in color and looked like a cross between a mule and a chamber pot. It had seven green eyes in its kidney. "Coomysamoo shylymiduj ydiloj, tojadil too pyquilu, dicoogoj cuwrad," the creature said.
"Cripes," Studs said. "Care to repeat that in English?"
"Develop dead fish plunger brass electric mixer shake to prairie," the thing maintained.
"Begad. You can go back to your native language now. While you're at it, maybe you should go back to your native planet."
"Goopygoody spool of thread krikobomyc."
"Why don't you take your spool of thread and shove it in your paw?" Studs retorted.
The creature looked tired. "Cijyruco trotogemood umobob, cewygoc," it asked. "Nuclohik!" it continued.
"Your face is a nuclohik!"
He didn't know why he was being so mouthy to the strange, fascinating creature; he was feeling unusually fearless. He tended to deal with the unknown the way he would deal with an annoying salesman or proofreader. If he had been carrying a Molotov cocktail, 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 Briggs will be delighted to see you."
The creature crept slightly and stared into space. Then it rose up on its fresh legs, puffed out its wig and sprinted fearfully toward him.
For the first time, Studs had the urge to run, but his skin was lightening up and his legs refused to move.
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