Rocket Van Dorn was on his way home from Chesapeake after a two-day series of business meetings. He was feeling funny now that the meetings were over. He was driving his perambulator, and was starting to get a bit drowsy, in spite of having had only four 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 Louisiana, etc. etc. "I'm a Sap for Giggling at You" by The Smiles 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 toe began to look strange 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 navy blue 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 heavy stone floating in the air. It hovered for a while over the range across the road, then rapidly descended to the ground.
Rocket was feeling strangely awkward. He briefly wished he had paid better attention in information science class. His toe was still looking strange, but he got out of the perambulator and zoomed openly toward the object.
As he watched, an opening appeared in the side of the ship, and soon a neat creature emerged. It was olive drab-ish in color and looked like a cross between a dodo bird and a notepad. It had seven burgundy eyes in its spinal cord. "Cubocoodu phekulogoj ynoolyl, nowanun ni bucrity, takygat waflyt," the creature said.
"Holy moley," Rocket said. "Care to repeat that in English?"
"Clamp mushroom screwdriver metal cookie cutter chant to pond," the thing blustered.
"Far out. You can go back to your native language now. While you're at it, maybe you should go back to your native planet."
"Lynerojy clipboard flootapatod."
"Why don't you take your clipboard and shove it in your mouth?" Rocket retorted.
The creature looked fearless. "Gatewenoo clymamojooc ubyboot, dozomog," it rumored. "Luquizyl!" it continued.
"Your face is a luquizyl!"
He didn't know why he was being so mouthy to the strange, exuberant creature; he was feeling unusually exuberant. He tended to deal with the unknown the way he would deal with an annoying salesman or chauffeur. If he had been carrying an accordion, 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 Jones will be delighted to see you."
The creature tore slightly and jerked. Then it rose up on its torn legs, puffed out its nose and bolted queerly toward him.
For the first time, Rocket had the urge to run, but his front tooth was itching and his legs refused to move.
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