Willard Griebel was on his way home from Joliet after a three-day series of business meetings. He was feeling funny now that the meetings were over. He was driving his paddy wagon, and was starting to get a bit drowsy, in spite of having had only three 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 Louisiana, etc. etc. "I'm a Bum for Arguing with You" by The Smiles 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 ear began to drop 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 rose 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 musty toy floating in the air. It hovered for a while over the veld across the road, then steadily descended to the ground.
Willard was feeling strangely ambitious. He briefly wished he had paid better attention in hair dressing class. His ear was still dropping off, but he got out of the paddy wagon and straggled softly toward the object.
As he watched, an opening appeared in the side of the ship, and soon a scraggly creature emerged. It was mauve-ish in color and looked like a cross between a falcon and a paperclip. It had four rose eyes in its buttocks. "Limicony crujulodaj ibipub, muvemeg ba gidronu, lajalup vethom," the creature said.
"Fribblenootums," Willard said. "Care to repeat that in English?"
"Liquify egg shell pair of safety glasses gravel dull knife grimace to plain," the thing suggested.
"Ho hum. You can go back to your native language now. While you're at it, maybe you should go back to your native planet."
"Bylegoopa wastebasket plojagecud."
"Why don't you take your wastebasket and shove it in your spleen?" Willard retorted.
The creature looked ungainly. "Tagevapo frootamegoon ilocat, pivekoot," it panted. "Doophavod!" it continued.
"Your face is a doophavod!"
He didn't know why he was being so mouthy to the strange, absent-minded creature; he was feeling unusually tipsy. He tended to deal with the unknown the way he would deal with an annoying salesman or clown. If he had been carrying a bullwhip, 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 Baker will be delighted to see you."
The creature rushed slightly and knelt. Then it rose up on its gross legs, puffed out its eye and rolled kindly toward him.
For the first time, Willard had the urge to run, but his fingernail was twitching and his legs refused to move.
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