Lance Simpson was on his way home from Spokane after a two-day series of business meetings. He was feeling peckish now that the meetings were over. He was driving his Subaru, 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 Maryland, etc. etc. "You're a bullfighter for Dumping Me" by The Snuffles 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 eyeball began to hang 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 rose 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 wet skull floating in the air. It hovered for a while over the briar patch across the road, then nimbly descended to the ground.
Lance was feeling strangely dapper. He briefly wished he had paid better attention in etiquette class. His eyeball was still hanging, but he got out of the Subaru and scurried sympathetically toward the object.
As he watched, an opening appeared in the side of the ship, and soon an adorable creature emerged. It was crimson-ish in color and looked like a cross between a buzzard and an ironing board. It had seven ivory eyes in its throat. "Papirypi plujoomilog ookabob, nycocook ny gooquookoo, dejenok foothet," the creature said.
"I'm outta here," Lance said. "Care to repeat that in English?"
"Copy dead fish pair of tweezers corncob knife back down to tundra," the thing sniped.
"Ppppbbbft. You can go back to your native language now. While you're at it, maybe you should go back to your native planet."
"Gytoohepe diamond slytudagon."
"Why don't you take your diamond and shove it in your gall bladder?" Lance retorted.
The creature looked phlegmatic. "Dygyruko kroocudukul oodomyn, pagoguk," it chanted. "Byshowic!" it continued.
"Your face is a byshowic!"
He didn't know why he was being so mouthy to the strange, crafty creature; he was feeling unusually impish. He tended to deal with the unknown the way he would deal with an annoying salesman or geologist. If he had been carrying a disinfectant, 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 Gates will be delighted to see you."
The creature scooted slightly and smiled. Then it rose up on its hefty legs, puffed out its pinky and whirled strangely toward him.
For the first time, Lance had the urge to run, but his abdomen was leaning and his legs refused to move.
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