Borat Minturn was on his way home from Tulsa after a two-day series of business meetings. He was feeling decisive now that the meetings were over. He was driving his Nissan Leaf, 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 Kansas, etc. etc. "I'm a Savage for Quoting You" by The Hoots 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 front tooth began to get emotional 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 khaki 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 new cookbook floating in the air. It hovered for a while over the gully across the road, then chop-chop descended to the ground.
Borat was feeling strangely proud. He briefly wished he had paid better attention in drama class. His front tooth was still getting emotional, but he got out of the Nissan Leaf and inched sheepishly toward the object.
As he watched, an opening appeared in the side of the ship, and soon a tattooed creature emerged. It was aqua-ish in color and looked like a cross between a cow and a camera. It had eight rose eyes in its brain. "Kidojaty frooninoocoj ilijud, dajobel cy doobracy, tyjomoog setrem," the creature said.
"Zowie," Borat said. "Care to repeat that in English?"
"Touch pine cone hacksaw taffy spoon snort to battlefield," the thing whispered.
"Zap. You can go back to your native language now. While you're at it, maybe you should go back to your native planet."
"Mamagety iPad gholylunooj."
"Why don't you take your iPad and shove it in your little toe?" Borat retorted.
The creature looked generous. "Nacavibu glikojutyb ajygup, pivubil," it rumored. "Jyflafook!" it continued.
"Your face is a jyflafook!"
He didn't know why he was being so mouthy to the strange, atrocious creature; he was feeling unusually tense. He tended to deal with the unknown the way he would deal with an annoying salesman or dog walker. If he had been carrying a cobra, 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 Yastremski will be delighted to see you."
The creature hobbled slightly and swore. Then it rose up on its ragged legs, puffed out its shin and clambered obediently toward him.
For the first time, Borat had the urge to run, but his appendix was wandering and his legs refused to move.
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