Bradley Gordon was on his way home from Saõ Paulo after a four-day series of business meetings. He was feeling generous now that the meetings were over. He was driving his backhoe, and was starting to get a bit drowsy, in spite of having had only eight 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 Kansas, etc. etc. "I'm a Madman for Drawing strength from You" by The Crows 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 big toe began to slide 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 red 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 fabulous chess set floating in the air. It hovered for a while over the cesspool across the road, then diligently descended to the ground.
Bradley was feeling strangely timid. He briefly wished he had paid better attention in herbalism class. His big toe was still sliding, but he got out of the backhoe and proceeded suspiciously toward the object.
As he watched, an opening appeared in the side of the ship, and soon a homely creature emerged. It was striped-ish in color and looked like a cross between a gazelle and a vacuum cleaner. It had two salmon eyes in its skull. "Depegalu brypotygyl ikoocij, pavubeg jy loshydy, nanonym jighit," the creature said.
"Okay," Bradley said. "Care to repeat that in English?"
"Seal acorn vacuum cleaner hay strainer pace to meadow," the thing demanded.
"Goodness gracious. You can go back to your native language now. While you're at it, maybe you should go back to your native planet."
"Gegosoocoo pink flamingo proopoojocac."
"Why don't you take your pink flamingo and shove it in your rib?" Bradley retorted.
The creature looked sincere. "Jidoocolo wrupookykeb enobol, koojamym," it conversed. "Jygrisuk!" it continued.
"Your face is a jygrisuk!"
He didn't know why he was being so mouthy to the strange, corpulent creature; he was feeling unusually funny. He tended to deal with the unknown the way he would deal with an annoying salesman or professional dancer. If he had been carrying a harpoon, 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 Blake will be delighted to see you."
The creature skidded slightly and turned blue. Then it rose up on its important legs, puffed out its hip and pranced strictly toward him.
For the first time, Bradley had the urge to run, but his Achilles tendon was crumbling and his legs refused to move.
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