Lucas Weeden was on his way home from Hollywood after a three-day series of business meetings. He was feeling desperate now that the meetings were over. He was driving his Chevrolet Impala, 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 Kansas, etc. etc. "I'm a Clapperdudgeon for Praising You" by The Clenched fists 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 belly began to soften 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 jet black 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 crusty box of Kleenex floating in the air. It hovered for a while over the dump across the road, then promptly descended to the ground.
Lucas was feeling strangely shy. He briefly wished he had paid better attention in computer science class. His belly was still softening, but he got out of the Chevrolet Impala and sidled surreptitiously toward the object.
As he watched, an opening appeared in the side of the ship, and soon a grubby creature emerged. It was forest green-ish in color and looked like a cross between a pony and a cigar. It had four pea green eyes in its paw. "Botohyku fradajotood oodydool, mawunop ka gawhoojy, lopalib cychic," the creature said.
"Yes," Lucas said. "Care to repeat that in English?"
"Break piece of driftwood chainsaw Portland cement turkey baster primp to swamp," the thing hinted.
"Very well done. You can go back to your native language now. While you're at it, maybe you should go back to your native planet."
"Gyjoojyte hat slekelanyd."
"Why don't you take your hat and shove it in your toupee?" Lucas retorted.
The creature looked tired. "Boomafibi frygadamob apojan, jicagyl," it nattered. "Gatrewak!" it continued.
"Your face is a gatrewak!"
He didn't know why he was being so mouthy to the strange, young creature; he was feeling unusually resolute. He tended to deal with the unknown the way he would deal with an annoying salesman or stable boy. If he had been carrying a harpoon, 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 Ivanov will be delighted to see you."
The creature skidded slightly and flailed. Then it rose up on its bizarre legs, puffed out its little toe and rolled awkwardly toward him.
For the first time, Lucas had the urge to run, but his tooth was turning red and his legs refused to move.
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