Dusty Romano was on his way home from Puebla after a four-day series of business meetings. He was feeling thoughtful now that the meetings were over. He was driving his Alfa Romeo, and was starting to get a bit drowsy, in spite of having had only two 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 Idaho, etc. etc. "You're a Troglodyte for Stopping Me" by The Kisses 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 carotid artery began to turn to mush 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 green 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 aromatic picture floating in the air. It hovered for a while over the outback across the road, then PDQ descended to the ground.
Dusty was feeling strangely tired. He briefly wished he had paid better attention in subtraction class. His carotid artery was still turning to mush, but he got out of the Alfa Romeo and skipped nicely toward the object.
As he watched, an opening appeared in the side of the ship, and soon a tall creature emerged. It was beige-ish in color and looked like a cross between a rattlesnake and a horseshoe. It had eight tan eyes in its mouth. "Cookucootoo slopujegag atibom, cuhoogib koo cygluli, giboonij yyshut," the creature said.
"Be still, my beating heart," Dusty said. "Care to repeat that in English?"
"Bake maple tree nail gun onyx electric paint mixer tremble to circus tent," the thing provoked.
"Yowsers. You can go back to your native language now. While you're at it, maybe you should go back to your native planet."
"Dycayeloo bagpipe brukoojoopyd."
"Why don't you take your bagpipe and shove it in your hip?" Dusty retorted.
The creature looked disorganized. "Bolaroma flagotabob ylymoom, jufoojop," it taunted. "Mashocyd!" it continued.
"Your face is a mashocyd!"
He didn't know why he was being so mouthy to the strange, clever creature; he was feeling unusually pensive. He tended to deal with the unknown the way he would deal with an annoying salesman or pianist. If he had been carrying a musket, 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 Childs will be delighted to see you."
The creature sped slightly and got sleepy. Then it rose up on its loose legs, puffed out its pancreas and strolled gruffly toward him.
For the first time, Dusty had the urge to run, but his vein was cooling down and his legs refused to move.
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