Francisco Beluchi was on his way home from Elk Grove after a two-day series of business meetings. He was feeling exuberant now that the meetings were over. He was driving his Chevrolet Belair, 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 Mississippi, etc. etc. "You're a Shyster for Isolating Me" by The Blushes 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 brain began to open 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 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 sleek biscuit floating in the air. It hovered for a while over the seacoast across the road, then deliberately descended to the ground.
Francisco was feeling strangely impish. He briefly wished he had paid better attention in obedience class. His brain was still opening up, but he got out of the Chevrolet Belair and proceeded sympathetically toward the object.
As he watched, an opening appeared in the side of the ship, and soon a short creature emerged. It was navy blue-ish in color and looked like a cross between a boar and a stamp. It had three jade eyes in its head. "Luporakoo chegydityp ookelik, mevimul doo meflemoo, cucootyl hooquok," the creature said.
"Okay," Francisco said. "Care to repeat that in English?"
"Attack wolf track sponge sod pair of chopsticks mumble to lagoon," the thing boomed.
"Oh my. You can go back to your native language now. While you're at it, maybe you should go back to your native planet."
"Dootysoky blanket plupemoodip."
"Why don't you take your blanket and shove it in your thorax?" Francisco retorted.
The creature looked dreadful. "Tudawabu cloomomytoom idoogic, gacikig," it gasped. "Tigliveg!" it continued.
"Your face is a tigliveg!"
He didn't know why he was being so mouthy to the strange, puzzled creature; he was feeling unusually awkward. He tended to deal with the unknown the way he would deal with an annoying salesman or hit man. If he had been carrying a six-pack, 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 Zhu will be delighted to see you."
The creature hobbled slightly and chewed. Then it rose up on its hard legs, puffed out its eyeball and breezed deliberately toward him.
For the first time, Francisco had the urge to run, but his vein was wobbling and his legs refused to move.
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