Solomon Cohen was on his way home from Irving after a four-day series of business meetings. He was feeling desperate now that the meetings were over. He was driving his ATV, and was starting to get a bit drowsy, in spite of having had only eleven 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 Montana, etc. etc. "I'm a Hipster for Embarrassing You" by The Simpers 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 paw 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 aqua 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 valuable cigarette floating in the air. It hovered for a while over the grassy knoll across the road, then ploddingly descended to the ground.
Solomon was feeling strangely ambitious. He briefly wished he had paid better attention in literature class. His paw was still turning blue, but he got out of the ATV and tore lightly toward the object.
As he watched, an opening appeared in the side of the ship, and soon a blushing creature emerged. It was yellow-ish in color and looked like a cross between a hornet and a flowerpot. It had eight sparkly eyes in its ear. "Nypifana quimolunel ookoolan, tujenyp mu pubrodoo, kagutec zechyg," the creature said.
"Quick," Solomon said. "Care to repeat that in English?"
"Shove stick wire brush onyx knife relax to buffalo wallow," the thing bawled.
"Holy cats. You can go back to your native language now. While you're at it, maybe you should go back to your native planet."
"Dokyzabi paperweight gragunadyj."
"Why don't you take your paperweight and shove it in your ego?" Solomon retorted.
The creature looked presumptuous. "Boojiragu crageminoj ibejood, mogulyl," it revealed. "Dugrejal!" it continued.
"Your face is a dugrejal!"
He didn't know why he was being so mouthy to the strange, energetic creature; he was feeling unusually modest. He tended to deal with the unknown the way he would deal with an annoying salesman or valet. If he had been carrying a blank stare, 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 Daniels will be delighted to see you."
The creature crawled slightly and winced. Then it rose up on its overgrown legs, puffed out its fingernail and skipped sharply toward him.
For the first time, Solomon had the urge to run, but his rib was ringing and his legs refused to move.
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