Max Proctor was on his way home from Pomona after a five-day series of business meetings. He was feeling drowsy now that the meetings were over. He was driving his Fiat, and was starting to get a bit drowsy, in spite of having had only ten 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 Massachusetts, etc. etc. "You're a Dope for Reeducating Me" by The Sniffles 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 eyebrow began to grow hair 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 yellow 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 suitcase floating in the air. It hovered for a while over the trail across the road, then diligently descended to the ground.
Max was feeling strangely woozy. He briefly wished he had paid better attention in nutrition class. His eyebrow was still growing hair, but he got out of the Fiat and paraded swiftly toward the object.
As he watched, an opening appeared in the side of the ship, and soon an ugly creature emerged. It was aqua-ish in color and looked like a cross between a zebra and a paper airplane. It had three green eyes in its palm. "Moogooguly thynatynut ujepoj, jiyopop noo leklooky, gupydoob yaplyp," the creature said.
"Piffle," Max said. "Care to repeat that in English?"
"Patch feather corkscrew tile grater stand by to mountain," the thing croaked.
"Boy howdy. You can go back to your native language now. While you're at it, maybe you should go back to your native planet."
"Koodujeny hot potato clilujatym."
"Why don't you take your hot potato and shove it in your front tooth?" Max retorted.
The creature looked bellicose. "Domoovyca bregabekak ukanoj, jyruped," it queried. "Toprizal!" it continued.
"Your face is a toprizal!"
He didn't know why he was being so mouthy to the strange, tall creature; he was feeling unusually tipsy. He tended to deal with the unknown the way he would deal with an annoying salesman or model. If he had been carrying a BB gun, 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 Quinn will be delighted to see you."
The creature flounced slightly and paused. Then it rose up on its bronze legs, puffed out its back and clambered ruefully toward him.
For the first time, Max had the urge to run, but his gall bladder was falling off and his legs refused to move.
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