Alistair Tilley was on his way home from Bologna after a five-day series of business meetings. He was feeling confident now that the meetings were over. He was driving his magic carpet, 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 Delaware, etc. etc. "You're a Lackwit for Quoting Me" by The Flinchs 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 Achilles tendon began to crack 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 teal 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 modern abacus floating in the air. It hovered for a while over the grassland across the road, then steadily descended to the ground.
Alistair was feeling strangely confident. He briefly wished he had paid better attention in folklore class. His Achilles tendon was still cracking, but he got out of the magic carpet and lumbered demurely toward the object.
As he watched, an opening appeared in the side of the ship, and soon an unkempt creature emerged. It was lavender-ish in color and looked like a cross between a Norway rat and an African violet. It had eight peach eyes in its buttocks. "Gunegyki tranibydad ecoolop, gewipab to kakriga, pepenoc gydrin," the creature said.
"Gotta love it," Alistair said. "Care to repeat that in English?"
"Sharpen wildflower power washer stucco candy thermometer belch to path," the thing persisted.
"Isht. You can go back to your native language now. While you're at it, maybe you should go back to your native planet."
"Jemeryle dart fryboologem."
"Why don't you take your dart and shove it in your shoulder?" Alistair retorted.
The creature looked vacuous. "Bemoyujo shojikookap enatej, dojopyn," it offered. "Myprarab!" it continued.
"Your face is a myprarab!"
He didn't know why he was being so mouthy to the strange, melancholic creature; he was feeling unusually relaxed. He tended to deal with the unknown the way he would deal with an annoying salesman or X-ray technician. If he had been carrying a smoke bomb, 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 Teeters will be delighted to see you."
The creature strolled slightly and got dizzy. Then it rose up on its wet legs, puffed out its foot and bolted uselessly toward him.
For the first time, Alistair had the urge to run, but his toe was hanging down and his legs refused to move.
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