Andy Martinez was on his way home from Eau Claire after a four-day series of business meetings. He was feeling desperate now that the meetings were over. He was driving his Ford Bronco, and was starting to get a bit drowsy, in spite of having had only five 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 New Mexico, etc. etc. "You're a Witch for Bonding with Me" by The Finger guns 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 get fuzzy 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 navy blue 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 stolen feather duster floating in the air. It hovered for a while over the backyard across the road, then eagerly descended to the ground.
Andy was feeling strangely sober. He briefly wished he had paid better attention in Chinese class. His carotid artery was still getting fuzzy, but he got out of the Ford Bronco and swung gruffly toward the object.
As he watched, an opening appeared in the side of the ship, and soon a spry creature emerged. It was indigo-ish in color and looked like a cross between an iguana and a pacifier. It had eight silver eyes in its belly button. "Dydugooba slonoomedul unikem, gofygab da gowhaly, pekoobut cipluk," the creature said.
"Boy oh boy," Andy said. "Care to repeat that in English?"
"Roast rock caulking gun tempered glass garlic press shrug to oasis," the thing vowed.
"I beg your pardon. You can go back to your native language now. While you're at it, maybe you should go back to your native planet."
"Koburece hot potato gheboogoopip."
"Why don't you take your hot potato and shove it in your wig?" Andy retorted.
The creature looked miniscule. "Dibuzode flepootedyn olujim, kojotem," it raved. "Kooclizam!" it continued.
"Your face is a kooclizam!"
He didn't know why he was being so mouthy to the strange, noxious creature; he was feeling unusually impish. He tended to deal with the unknown the way he would deal with an annoying salesman or philanthropist. If he had been carrying a grenade launcher, 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 Sokoloff will be delighted to see you."
The creature jumped slightly and apologized. Then it rose up on its hand-painted legs, puffed out its tooth and bounced craftily toward him.
For the first time, Andy had the urge to run, but his waist was getting moldy and his legs refused to move.
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