Alton Giordano was on his way home from Taipei after a three-day series of business meetings. He was feeling cantankerous now that the meetings were over. He was driving his Buick LeSabre, and was starting to get a bit drowsy, in spite of having had only two 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 Oklahoma, etc. etc. "You're a Poopyhead for Befuddling Me" 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 piehole began to act up 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 lime-green 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 jagged dead fawn floating in the air. It hovered for a while over the tundra across the road, then nimbly descended to the ground.
Alton was feeling strangely ambitious. He briefly wished he had paid better attention in horticulture class. His piehole was still acting up, but he got out of the Buick LeSabre and galloped vigorously toward the object.
As he watched, an opening appeared in the side of the ship, and soon a large creature emerged. It was orange-ish in color and looked like a cross between a cobra and a china doll. It had five salmon eyes in its toupee. "Pyloofilo grugonabyd ujimet, pagojyc do diphybo, noobudog zoocruk," the creature said.
"Jeepers," Alton said. "Care to repeat that in English?"
"Archive cedar tree hole punch chicken feather electric mixer scribble to dumpster," the thing preached.
"Now we're talking. You can go back to your native language now. While you're at it, maybe you should go back to your native planet."
"Nagusomu piece of paper grydegogym."
"Why don't you take your piece of paper and shove it in your scalp?" Alton retorted.
The creature looked rapacious. "Doopofoke fryboolycood amopak, micepak," it requested. "Diquuhit!" it continued.
"Your face is a diquuhit!"
He didn't know why he was being so mouthy to the strange, desperate creature; he was feeling unusually tired. He tended to deal with the unknown the way he would deal with an annoying salesman or chef. If he had been carrying an AK-47, 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 Ansler will be delighted to see you."
The creature slid slightly and squeaked. Then it rose up on its funny legs, puffed out its thigh and cantered softly toward him.
For the first time, Alton had the urge to run, but his gall bladder was feeling funny and his legs refused to move.
Next Chapter