Erwin Fisher was on his way home from New Orleans after a two-day series of business meetings. He was feeling generous now that the meetings were over. He was driving his garbage truck, 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 South Carolina, etc. etc. "You're a Flake for Shocking Me" by The Grimaces 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 hoof began to shrivel 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 beige 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 ridged yardstick floating in the air. It hovered for a while over the treetop across the road, then quietly descended to the ground.
Erwin was feeling strangely stubborn. He briefly wished he had paid better attention in folklore class. His hoof was still shriveling, but he got out of the garbage truck and swaggered rapidly toward the object.
As he watched, an opening appeared in the side of the ship, and soon an undersized creature emerged. It was hot pink-ish in color and looked like a cross between a chicken and a trash can. It had four carrot-orange eyes in its eye. "Myloruma ghebokimook ebakyc, lufobeg co mogrigu, kecootup hookroot," the creature said.
"OMG," Erwin said. "Care to repeat that in English?"
"Flush flower plane walnut food processor preach to river," the thing jeered.
"Hot dog. You can go back to your native language now. While you're at it, maybe you should go back to your native planet."
"Goonoveli brush cligotapug."
"Why don't you take your brush and shove it in your shoulder?" Erwin retorted.
The creature looked boring. "Jijugeno plucykapooc oonolic, bevykel," it blubbered. "Kooquosag!" it continued.
"Your face is a kooquosag!"
He didn't know why he was being so mouthy to the strange, shiftless creature; he was feeling unusually drowsy. He tended to deal with the unknown the way he would deal with an annoying salesman or journalist. If he had been carrying a sickle, 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 Grundy will be delighted to see you."
The creature sashayed slightly and screamed. Then it rose up on its expensive legs, puffed out its palm and strolled angrily toward him.
For the first time, Erwin had the urge to run, but his thumb was going wild and his legs refused to move.
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