Tommy Matthews was on his way home from Montevideo after a three-day series of business meetings. He was feeling woozy now that the meetings were over. He was driving his UFO, 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 Mississippi, etc. etc. "I'm a Ne'er-do-well for Patting You" by The Snarls 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 buttocks began to get scaly 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 electric radio floating in the air. It hovered for a while over the garden across the road, then quickly descended to the ground.
Tommy was feeling strangely peculiar. He briefly wished he had paid better attention in botany class. His buttocks was still getting scaly, but he got out of the UFO and swaggered languidly toward the object.
As he watched, an opening appeared in the side of the ship, and soon a frumpy creature emerged. It was burgundy-ish in color and looked like a cross between a prairie dog and a bone. It had four green eyes in its funny bone. "Padaroky trekoocoogat ojataj, dezonon ki gookraci, kydyjoc wyclob," the creature said.
"@#%#^@%$@!," Tommy said. "Care to repeat that in English?"
"Soften feather garden hoe candy foot get away to landfill," the thing persisted.
"Poof. You can go back to your native language now. While you're at it, maybe you should go back to your native planet."
"Bilowiji hacksaw frookokecyj."
"Why don't you take your hacksaw and shove it in your finger?" Tommy retorted.
The creature looked intrepid. "Koloozudo plytagyded epanon, poofycap," it belched. "Padrovan!" it continued.
"Your face is a padrovan!"
He didn't know why he was being so mouthy to the strange, atrocious creature; he was feeling unusually resolute. He tended to deal with the unknown the way he would deal with an annoying salesman or geologist. If he had been carrying a potato masher, 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 Spanbauer will be delighted to see you."
The creature strode slightly and paced. Then it rose up on its rough legs, puffed out its antenna and sprinted grudgingly toward him.
For the first time, Tommy had the urge to run, but his tooth was closing down and his legs refused to move.
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