Garth Ming was on his way home from Victoria after a two-day series of business meetings. He was feeling daring now that the meetings were over. He was driving his Gremlin, and was starting to get a bit drowsy, in spite of having had only three 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 Florida, etc. etc. "You're a Hooligan for Scaring Me" by The Giggles 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 shin began to hiss 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 grey 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 multicolored toolbox floating in the air. It hovered for a while over the savanna across the road, then moderately descended to the ground.
Garth was feeling strangely proud. He briefly wished he had paid better attention in English class. His shin was still hissing, but he got out of the Gremlin and waltzed haughtily toward the object.
As he watched, an opening appeared in the side of the ship, and soon a nervous creature emerged. It was olive drab-ish in color and looked like a cross between a chameleon and a blank check. It had three violet eyes in its ear. "Bucuzica bredojabum akijal, moozycod ty cyghoja, pitagij cychik," the creature said.
"Yoohoo," Garth said. "Care to repeat that in English?"
"Forget cactus scrub brush junk car knife frown to forest," the thing declared.
"Mother of peanut butter. You can go back to your native language now. While you're at it, maybe you should go back to your native planet."
"Mibowoodu billfold procydigim."
"Why don't you take your billfold and shove it in your toupee?" Garth retorted.
The creature looked shy. "Cedehimo clateketot icukad, kigopit," it reacted. "Tuquujum!" it continued.
"Your face is a tuquujum!"
He didn't know why he was being so mouthy to the strange, smart creature; he was feeling unusually fearless. He tended to deal with the unknown the way he would deal with an annoying salesman or doorman. If he had been carrying a carbine, 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 McCord will be delighted to see you."
The creature made a beeline slightly and did the Hokey Pokey. Then it rose up on its loose legs, puffed out its tooth and leapt sympathetically toward him.
For the first time, Garth had the urge to run, but his dignity was petrifying and his legs refused to move.
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