Tommy Cramer was on his way home from Midland after a five-day series of business meetings. He was feeling fearless now that the meetings were over. He was driving his Audi, and was starting to get a bit drowsy, in spite of having had only ten 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 New York, etc. etc. "You're an Imbecile for Jabbing Me" by The Laughs 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 little finger began to get tangled 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 carrot-orange 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 porcelain can of sardines floating in the air. It hovered for a while over the prairie across the road, then gradually descended to the ground.
Tommy was feeling strangely somber. He briefly wished he had paid better attention in songwriting class. His little finger was still getting tangled, but he got out of the Audi and crawled doubtfully toward the object.
As he watched, an opening appeared in the side of the ship, and soon a hairy creature emerged. It was olive green-ish in color and looked like a cross between an eagle and an umbrella. It had eight jet black eyes in its Achilles tendon. "Tekegimu grytinidop ugegyl, tagoojyg de bowhyjy, jymebyk cagloc," the creature said.
"Golly whiz," Tommy said. "Care to repeat that in English?"
"Split flower squeegee paper clip electric mixer gasp to forest," the thing squawked.
"Bah. You can go back to your native language now. While you're at it, maybe you should go back to your native planet."
"Nylegoojo vacuum cleaner chilegolol."
"Why don't you take your vacuum cleaner and shove it in your eyelash?" Tommy retorted.
The creature looked bold. "Bunajoogu trenykanyk igijit, kysolab," it recited. "Diploozyc!" it continued.
"Your face is a diploozyc!"
He didn't know why he was being so mouthy to the strange, freakish creature; he was feeling unusually decisive. He tended to deal with the unknown the way he would deal with an annoying salesman or phlebotomist. If he had been carrying a fishing pole, 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 German will be delighted to see you."
The creature stormed slightly and awoke. Then it rose up on its greasy legs, puffed out its dignity and tramped positively toward him.
For the first time, Tommy had the urge to run, but his foot was tightening up and his legs refused to move.
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