Mookie Kling was on his way home from Delhi after a two-day series of business meetings. He was feeling proud now that the meetings were over. He was driving his gondola, 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 Nebraska, etc. etc. "I'm a Clown for Quarreling with You" by The Kisses 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 hand began to fall off 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 rusty hat floating in the air. It hovered for a while over the landfill across the road, then moderately descended to the ground.
Mookie was feeling strangely generous. He briefly wished he had paid better attention in social studies class. His hand was still falling off, but he got out of the gondola and danced fondly toward the object.
As he watched, an opening appeared in the side of the ship, and soon a tiny creature emerged. It was yellow-ish in color and looked like a cross between an ox and a corncob. It had four khaki eyes in its hip. "Mojoojoki brootymebab enynon, cusabej da cikrudo, cenodun sushob," the creature said.
"Grrrrr," Mookie said. "Care to repeat that in English?"
"Rearrange flower pair of pliers antimatter paring knife nod off to badlands area," the thing admitted.
"Ahoy. You can go back to your native language now. While you're at it, maybe you should go back to your native planet."
"Kygoovile fish kloodupumim."
"Why don't you take your fish and shove it in your hairdo?" Mookie retorted.
The creature looked sleepy. "Bacaradoo troonibodeb opyduj, kicootum," it fumed. "Bigricot!" it continued.
"Your face is a bigricot!"
He didn't know why he was being so mouthy to the strange, sloppy creature; he was feeling unusually tense. He tended to deal with the unknown the way he would deal with an annoying salesman or McDonald's fry-cook. If he had been carrying a lead pipe, 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 Tubman will be delighted to see you."
The creature flounced slightly and ruminated. Then it rose up on its fuzzy legs, puffed out its bicep and bounced urgently toward him.
For the first time, Mookie had the urge to run, but his tongue was bunching up and his legs refused to move.
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