Gerald Sekora was on his way home from Cambridge after a three-day series of business meetings. He was feeling maniacal now that the meetings were over. He was driving his Kia, 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 Maine, etc. etc. "I'm a Pighead for Astonishing You" by The Sniggers 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 liver began to feel weird 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 sparkly 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 ridiculous acorn floating in the air. It hovered for a while over the dump across the road, then like a bat out of hell descended to the ground.
Gerald was feeling strangely selfish. He briefly wished he had paid better attention in hair dressing class. His liver was still feeling weird, but he got out of the Kia and rolled demurely toward the object.
As he watched, an opening appeared in the side of the ship, and soon a shapely creature emerged. It was emerald green-ish in color and looked like a cross between a snipe and an urn. It had seven camouflage eyes in its paw. "Doonoogoogo crutubypob ylokok, tuwucok to tafruda, moboolyn jufloon," the creature said.
"Alright," Gerald said. "Care to repeat that in English?"
"Boil raspberry bush mallet feather strainer meditate to cornfield," the thing bragged.
"Bless my britches. You can go back to your native language now. While you're at it, maybe you should go back to your native planet."
"Koopoohajy screwdriver klypepajel."
"Why don't you take your screwdriver and shove it in your finger?" Gerald retorted.
The creature looked childish. "Dacigimu shunymoopod adegog, dirujol," it suggested. "Kuclofool!" it continued.
"Your face is a kuclofool!"
He didn't know why he was being so mouthy to the strange, merry creature; he was feeling unusually furious. He tended to deal with the unknown the way he would deal with an annoying salesman or civil servant. If he had been carrying a wet noodle, 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 White will be delighted to see you."
The creature staggered slightly and leered. Then it rose up on its gaudy legs, puffed out its eyelash and slumped obediently toward him.
For the first time, Gerald had the urge to run, but his wig was sweating and his legs refused to move.
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