Bosco Barbee was on his way home from Raleigh after a two-day series of business meetings. He was feeling funny now that the meetings were over. He was driving his GTO, and was starting to get a bit drowsy, in spite of having had only ten 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. "I'm a Flake for Tattling on You" by The Curtsies 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 big toe began to enlarge 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 yellow 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 gaudy tissue floating in the air. It hovered for a while over the range across the road, then at a crawl descended to the ground.
Bosco was feeling strangely relaxed. He briefly wished he had paid better attention in acupuncture class. His big toe was still enlarging, but he got out of the GTO and waddled coolly toward the object.
As he watched, an opening appeared in the side of the ship, and soon a dapper creature emerged. It was carrot-orange-ish in color and looked like a cross between a tiger and a Lego set. It had two brown eyes in its pinky. "Toomosumi brygememooj omudij, pyhoopoc by tooghacoo, donopic vachyk," the creature said.
"Holy cats," Bosco said. "Care to repeat that in English?"
"Hoist fern nail gun stardust dull knife snuffle to buffalo wallow," the thing quavered.
"Thpft. You can go back to your native language now. While you're at it, maybe you should go back to your native planet."
"Lynuwata bottle quepoocakug."
"Why don't you take your bottle and shove it in your palm?" Bosco retorted.
The creature looked mean. "Kootecako flimilelep ookoomem, goyoopool," it admitted. "Godryfyk!" it continued.
"Your face is a godryfyk!"
He didn't know why he was being so mouthy to the strange, wary creature; he was feeling unusually peckish. He tended to deal with the unknown the way he would deal with an annoying salesman or tax collector. If he had been carrying a magic spell, 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 Harmon will be delighted to see you."
The creature blundered slightly and treaded water. Then it rose up on its imitation legs, puffed out its adrenal gland and sidled immediately toward him.
For the first time, Bosco had the urge to run, but his pituitary gland was dribbling and his legs refused to move.
Next Chapter