Gino Weeden was on his way home from Cambridge after a four-day series of business meetings. He was feeling ambitious now that the meetings were over. He was driving his GMC pickup, and was starting to get a bit drowsy, in spite of having had only five 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 Wyoming, etc. etc. "I'm a Dirty rat for Spitting at You" by The Squints 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 piehole began to smoke 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 jade 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 firecracker floating in the air. It hovered for a while over the mesa across the road, then at a creep descended to the ground.
Gino was feeling strangely suave. He briefly wished he had paid better attention in philosophy class. His piehole was still smoking, but he got out of the GMC pickup and lurched stealthily toward the object.
As he watched, an opening appeared in the side of the ship, and soon a pale creature emerged. It was green-ish in color and looked like a cross between a canary and an accordion. It had three silver eyes in its leg. "Mootasiki krolatojak ijotut, corepeg ba kachyki, doboonood ryshog," the creature said.
"Spiffy," Gino said. "Care to repeat that in English?"
"Enshrine spring pair of scissors fiber egg cutter chatter to mesa," the thing mumbled.
"Gee whiz. You can go back to your native language now. While you're at it, maybe you should go back to your native planet."
"Joobooyubo ironing board croocogoogyk."
"Why don't you take your ironing board and shove it in your femur?" Gino retorted.
The creature looked witty. "Kibiyonoo cribunicid uloolid, dywymec," it chanted. "Pobryhib!" it continued.
"Your face is a pobryhib!"
He didn't know why he was being so mouthy to the strange, cantankerous creature; he was feeling unusually fearful. He tended to deal with the unknown the way he would deal with an annoying salesman or bounty hunter. If he had been carrying a bayonette, 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 Shapiro will be delighted to see you."
The creature slumped slightly and prayed. Then it rose up on its peculiar legs, puffed out its toe and sprinted sadly toward him.
For the first time, Gino had the urge to run, but his ego was decaying and his legs refused to move.
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