Jacob Griffin was on his way home from Trenton after a four-day series of business meetings. He was feeling puzzled now that the meetings were over. He was driving his black sedan, and was starting to get a bit drowsy, in spite of having had only six 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 Connecticut, etc. etc. "You're a Scullery maid for Covering Me" by The Growls 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 bicep began to get sticky 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 scarlet 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 fabulous fingernail clipper floating in the air. It hovered for a while over the country meadow across the road, then at a dawdle descended to the ground.
Jacob was feeling strangely brash. He briefly wished he had paid better attention in arithmetic class. His bicep was still getting sticky, but he got out of the black sedan and crawled innocently toward the object.
As he watched, an opening appeared in the side of the ship, and soon a massive creature emerged. It was salmon-ish in color and looked like a cross between a gopher and a telephone book. It had seven indigo eyes in its palm. "Jecycogi plycukojym ojajym, cyhicul po dyghumi, jodoocup vubroom," the creature said.
"Gadzooks and crapadoodle," Jacob said. "Care to repeat that in English?"
"Bake dead tree drill Spanish moss chopstick bark to veld," the thing sniveled.
"Rats. You can go back to your native language now. While you're at it, maybe you should go back to your native planet."
"Tynagubi diagram brititipub."
"Why don't you take your diagram and shove it in your hair?" Jacob retorted.
The creature looked enraged. "Mipesibe quodoopogep ejobik, niyookip," it instructed. "Tyglahib!" it continued.
"Your face is a tyglahib!"
He didn't know why he was being so mouthy to the strange, irate creature; he was feeling unusually dapper. He tended to deal with the unknown the way he would deal with an annoying salesman or school principal. If he had been carrying a hockey puck, 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 Cotton will be delighted to see you."
The creature sashayed slightly and cogitated. Then it rose up on its modern legs, puffed out its hair and struggled angrily toward him.
For the first time, Jacob had the urge to run, but his femur was jamming up and his legs refused to move.
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