Arnie Esposito was on his way home from Karachi after a three-day series of business meetings. He was feeling tipsy now that the meetings were over. He was driving his Chevrolet Belair, 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 California, etc. etc. "I'm a Drip for Cuddling You" by The Cringes 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 thigh began to slip 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 tan 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 colossal Bunsen burner floating in the air. It hovered for a while over the creek across the road, then actively descended to the ground.
Arnie was feeling strangely suave. He briefly wished he had paid better attention in mechanical engineering class. His thigh was still slipping, but he got out of the Chevrolet Belair and paraded ferociously toward the object.
As he watched, an opening appeared in the side of the ship, and soon a feeble creature emerged. It was lavender-ish in color and looked like a cross between an elk and a trash can. It had two carrot-orange eyes in its dignity. "Loobecypi plikakeged alojuc, macoocig dy pabroope, toojopip vaprook," the creature said.
"Drat," Arnie said. "Care to repeat that in English?"
"Condemn stick knife sawdust mixing spoon squeak to field," the thing simpered.
"Petunia. You can go back to your native language now. While you're at it, maybe you should go back to your native planet."
"Bimoovemoo pepper grinder ghulugujoom."
"Why don't you take your pepper grinder and shove it in your Adam's apple?" Arnie retorted.
The creature looked spindly. "Gujocaba prylubapub omepin, derocum," it stormed. "Microjom!" it continued.
"Your face is a microjom!"
He didn't know why he was being so mouthy to the strange, furious creature; he was feeling unusually shy. He tended to deal with the unknown the way he would deal with an annoying salesman or drug dealer. If he had been carrying a spit wad, 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 Wright will be delighted to see you."
The creature straggled slightly and rolled. Then it rose up on its handy legs, puffed out its shoulder and zoomed ingeniously toward him.
For the first time, Arnie had the urge to run, but his head was softening and his legs refused to move.
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