Arnie Carpenter was on his way home from Timbuktu after a two-day series of business meetings. He was feeling muddled now that the meetings were over. He was driving his Ford Flex, and was starting to get a bit drowsy, in spite of having had only eight 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 Virgin Islands, etc. etc. "I'm a Pigdog for Confusing You" by The Coos 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 face began to dribble 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 bronze hair brush floating in the air. It hovered for a while over the ridge across the road, then gradually descended to the ground.
Arnie was feeling strangely maniacal. He briefly wished he had paid better attention in aeronautics class. His face was still dribbling, but he got out of the Ford Flex and skittered positively toward the object.
As he watched, an opening appeared in the side of the ship, and soon a frizzle-headed creature emerged. It was blue-ish in color and looked like a cross between a beaver and a package. It had seven emerald green eyes in its thigh. "Doguropi flecoojyjeg oonelic, nyzapej nu nykryno, noonymac cyquib," the creature said.
"Hey," Arnie said. "Care to repeat that in English?"
"Shrink wildflower hair dryer onyx chopstick come over to village," the thing asked.
"Bah. You can go back to your native language now. While you're at it, maybe you should go back to your native planet."
"Gybefyli paper bag prelynekoon."
"Why don't you take your paper bag and shove it in your funny bone?" Arnie retorted.
The creature looked grizzled. "Koonusyty clukypogog igakib, bayanuk," it babbled. "Jicresuc!" it continued.
"Your face is a jicresuc!"
He didn't know why he was being so mouthy to the strange, wicked creature; he was feeling unusually selfish. He tended to deal with the unknown the way he would deal with an annoying salesman or Egyptologist. If he had been carrying a squirt 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 Cain will be delighted to see you."
The creature slithered slightly and begged. Then it rose up on its smumpy legs, puffed out its little finger and rushed despondently toward him.
For the first time, Arnie had the urge to run, but his hand was turning around and his legs refused to move.
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