Bix Smirnov was on his way home from Irvine after a three-day series of business meetings. He was feeling humble now that the meetings were over. He was driving his Honda Element, and was starting to get a bit drowsy, in spite of having had only eleven 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 California, etc. etc. "I'm a Stumblebum for Laughing at You" by The Snorts 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 gall bladder began to get wonky 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 jade 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 crooked feather floating in the air. It hovered for a while over the range across the road, then speedily descended to the ground.
Bix was feeling strangely forgetful. He briefly wished he had paid better attention in psychology class. His gall bladder was still getting wonky, but he got out of the Honda Element and slumped cheerfully toward the object.
As he watched, an opening appeared in the side of the ship, and soon a large creature emerged. It was chartreuse-ish in color and looked like a cross between a beaver and a shovel. It had four rose eyes in its eye. "Ludejoodo choogoomacoop abubun, gugeboog cy moophycy, patolym cybrom," the creature said.
"Shoo," Bix said. "Care to repeat that in English?"
"Decontaminate dead tree curling iron chalk melon baller shake to park," the thing joked.
"Hot dog. You can go back to your native language now. While you're at it, maybe you should go back to your native planet."
"Lyjuhine book whuboojojob."
"Why don't you take your book and shove it in your fingernail?" Bix retorted.
The creature looked haughty. "Pomoohoci whyjemumot ibopak, mogoopaj," it hinted. "Dekricok!" it continued.
"Your face is a dekricok!"
He didn't know why he was being so mouthy to the strange, wicked creature; he was feeling unusually tired. He tended to deal with the unknown the way he would deal with an annoying salesman or fireman. If he had been carrying a witty reparteé, 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 Strait will be delighted to see you."
The creature tiptoed slightly and gazed. Then it rose up on its frilly legs, puffed out its chest and went strictly toward him.
For the first time, Bix had the urge to run, but his finger was heating up and his legs refused to move.
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