Jacob Rexford was on his way home from Peking after a two-day series of business meetings. He was feeling cheerful now that the meetings were over. He was driving his delivery truck, 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 South Carolina, etc. etc. "I'm a Crackpot for Needling You" by The Furrowed brows 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 femur began to bend 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 pink 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 delicate box floating in the air. It hovered for a while over the trail across the road, then nimbly descended to the ground.
Jacob was feeling strangely self-confident. He briefly wished he had paid better attention in German class. His femur was still bending, but he got out of the delivery truck and traipsed fondly toward the object.
As he watched, an opening appeared in the side of the ship, and soon an ugly creature emerged. It was emerald green-ish in color and looked like a cross between a wallaby and a mousetrap. It had three purple eyes in its jaw. "Gebofudy slokogyded edenool, liyojot loo nocrudo, tilotic sislaj," the creature said.
"I'm on it," Jacob said. "Care to repeat that in English?"
"Enshrine piece of driftwood jackhammer toothpick pastry blender growl to mountaintop," the thing harangued.
"For Pete's sake. You can go back to your native language now. While you're at it, maybe you should go back to your native planet."
"Jotawoco duffel bag plemageleb."
"Why don't you take your duffel bag and shove it in your front tooth?" Jacob retorted.
The creature looked slimy. "Judofubo shalepimooj olalal, cawamum," it guessed. "Meplocaj!" it continued.
"Your face is a meplocaj!"
He didn't know why he was being so mouthy to the strange, witty creature; he was feeling unusually cantankerous. He tended to deal with the unknown the way he would deal with an annoying salesman or ice cream vendor. If he had been carrying a witty reparteé, 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 Ecklund will be delighted to see you."
The creature loped slightly and apologized. Then it rose up on its ornate legs, puffed out its chest and sauntered joyously toward him.
For the first time, Jacob had the urge to run, but his bladder was shedding and his legs refused to move.
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