Sig Jordan was on his way home from Sunnyvale after a five-day series of business meetings. He was feeling merry now that the meetings were over. He was driving his fire truck, 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 Illinois, etc. etc. "I'm a Bilge rat for Trusting You" by The Furrowed brows 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 kidney began to sink 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 lavender 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 hand-made sponge floating in the air. It hovered for a while over the battlefield across the road, then at a dawdle descended to the ground.
Sig was feeling strangely decisive. He briefly wished he had paid better attention in computer science class. His kidney was still sinking, but he got out of the fire truck and bounded neatly toward the object.
As he watched, an opening appeared in the side of the ship, and soon a plump creature emerged. It was turquoise-ish in color and looked like a cross between a warthog and a bicycle. It had six amber eyes in its artery. "Mupoohuju trinubobel okookat, geziluj ga cyclabi, moobulook yifrut," the creature said.
"Oh my word," Sig said. "Care to repeat that in English?"
"Trim rock broom glass bead potato masher crouch to glen," the thing added.
"Ick. You can go back to your native language now. While you're at it, maybe you should go back to your native planet."
"Pimofoby needle and thread choobonunaj."
"Why don't you take your needle and thread and shove it in your hip?" Sig retorted.
The creature looked dignified. "Typuryja frujymibool ynilit, lajapoon," it opined. "Dukrooric!" it continued.
"Your face is a dukrooric!"
He didn't know why he was being so mouthy to the strange, furious creature; he was feeling unusually self-assured. He tended to deal with the unknown the way he would deal with an annoying salesman or busboy. If he had been carrying an aspersion, 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 Abbey will be delighted to see you."
The creature darted slightly and got along. Then it rose up on its fresh legs, puffed out its eyebrow and stalked cautiously toward him.
For the first time, Sig had the urge to run, but his artery was thickening and his legs refused to move.
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