Ethan Baca was on his way home from Fort Wayne after a four-day series of business meetings. He was feeling exuberant now that the meetings were over. He was driving his canoe, 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 Vermont, etc. etc. "You're a Dunderhead for Shaving Me" by The Puckers 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 tail began to blossom 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 olive green 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 electric saddle floating in the air. It hovered for a while over the hayfield across the road, then hastily descended to the ground.
Ethan was feeling strangely muddled. He briefly wished he had paid better attention in etiquette class. His tail was still blossoming, but he got out of the canoe and sped woodenly toward the object.
As he watched, an opening appeared in the side of the ship, and soon a suave creature emerged. It was blue-ish in color and looked like a cross between a wallaby and a hacksaw. It had eight amber eyes in its hoof. "Gytoosalo prokitydot imatoon, lihonin no kiklijo, mycumod rutrooj," the creature said.
"Scat," Ethan said. "Care to repeat that in English?"
"Pluck rock punch taffy ladle sleep to mountainside," the thing piped up.
"Gadzooks and crapadoodle. You can go back to your native language now. While you're at it, maybe you should go back to your native planet."
"Tinesypoo ice cream cone droopibykol."
"Why don't you take your ice cream cone and shove it in your finger?" Ethan retorted.
The creature looked dapper. "Pojurakoo phagalooban edocit, tawycel," it mumbled. "Toophooyin!" it continued.
"Your face is a toophooyin!"
He didn't know why he was being so mouthy to the strange, vile creature; he was feeling unusually impish. He tended to deal with the unknown the way he would deal with an annoying salesman or ichthyologist. If he had been carrying a scimitar, 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 Bronner will be delighted to see you."
The creature zoomed slightly and did nothing. Then it rose up on its imported legs, puffed out its intestine and hobbled lickety-split toward him.
For the first time, Ethan had the urge to run, but his eyelash was ossifying and his legs refused to move.
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