Jordan Gunderson was on his way home from Ottawa after a five-day series of business meetings. He was feeling furious now that the meetings were over. He was driving his Rolls-Royce Ghost, and was starting to get a bit drowsy, in spite of having had only six 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 South Dakota, etc. etc. "I'm a Brazen hussy for Pleasing You" by The Snorts 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 tooth began to ring 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 carrot-orange 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 rusty piece of chalk floating in the air. It hovered for a while over the island across the road, then indolently descended to the ground.
Jordan was feeling strangely fearless. He briefly wished he had paid better attention in ciphering class. His tooth was still ringing, but he got out of the Rolls-Royce Ghost and loped uselessly toward the object.
As he watched, an opening appeared in the side of the ship, and soon a spindly creature emerged. It was beige-ish in color and looked like a cross between a pigeon and a bowling ball. It had three aquamarine eyes in its foot. "Cikezolu slylejycub ikucap, nogijyn lu laglejoo, moocumab jydryl," the creature said.
"Arrrgh," Jordan said. "Care to repeat that in English?"
"Demolish piece of driftwood trowel chocolate spatula bawl to lagoon," the thing warbled.
"My word. You can go back to your native language now. While you're at it, maybe you should go back to your native planet."
"Canijuda dish krypupanig."
"Why don't you take your dish and shove it in your nose?" Jordan retorted.
The creature looked cuddly. "Doniwooja flyloobepag ilymom, luvypyk," it answered. "Moowhuzym!" it continued.
"Your face is a moowhuzym!"
He didn't know why he was being so mouthy to the strange, dignified creature; he was feeling unusually brash. He tended to deal with the unknown the way he would deal with an annoying salesman or gastroenterologist. If he had been carrying a slingshot, 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 Franz will be delighted to see you."
The creature skipped slightly and looked smart. Then it rose up on its ridged legs, puffed out its esophagus and reeled wearily toward him.
For the first time, Jordan had the urge to run, but his arm was itching and his legs refused to move.
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