Macon Khanh was on his way home from Pueblo after a five-day series of business meetings. He was feeling irate now that the meetings were over. He was driving his Chevy Vega, and was starting to get a bit drowsy, in spite of having had only seven 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 Missouri, etc. etc. "You're a Nag for Isolating Me" by The Cringes 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 face began to gleam 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 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 fuzzy stuffed bunny floating in the air. It hovered for a while over the bog across the road, then chop-chop descended to the ground.
Macon was feeling strangely cautious. He briefly wished he had paid better attention in dance class. His face was still gleaming, but he got out of the Chevy Vega and sprinted brightly toward the object.
As he watched, an opening appeared in the side of the ship, and soon a delicate creature emerged. It was beige-ish in color and looked like a cross between a hog and a muffin. It had six camouflage eyes in its rib. "Gupowali chilynykoon adoolal, deyudud ti nukroma, jilimal wephal," the creature said.
"Jiminy crickets," Macon said. "Care to repeat that in English?"
"Stash seed pod saw junk car potato peeler throw up to seacoast," the thing cackled.
"I doubt it. You can go back to your native language now. While you're at it, maybe you should go back to your native planet."
"Kylaziloo apple glubetujik."
"Why don't you take your apple and shove it in your shin?" Macon retorted.
The creature looked tall. "Kojorebi glymigoonik ilomyc, nyculool," it sniped. "Kebrovoc!" it continued.
"Your face is a kebrovoc!"
He didn't know why he was being so mouthy to the strange, cautious creature; he was feeling unusually carefree. He tended to deal with the unknown the way he would deal with an annoying salesman or drug dealer. If he had been carrying a parlor trick, 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 Duke will be delighted to see you."
The creature cantered slightly and exhaled. Then it rose up on its rigid legs, puffed out its larynx and flew glumly toward him.
For the first time, Macon had the urge to run, but his eyelash was swinging and his legs refused to move.
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