Arthur Holloman was on his way home from Boise after a three-day series of business meetings. He was feeling modest now that the meetings were over. He was driving his Ferrari, 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 Colorado, etc. etc. "I'm a Harebrain for Shrinking You" by The Wrinkled noses 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 jaw began to creak 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 violet 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 flaky mousetrap floating in the air. It hovered for a while over the garden across the road, then ploddingly descended to the ground.
Arthur was feeling strangely suave. He briefly wished he had paid better attention in molecular biology class. His jaw was still creaking, but he got out of the Ferrari and dove anxiously toward the object.
As he watched, an opening appeared in the side of the ship, and soon a nervous creature emerged. It was rose-ish in color and looked like a cross between a hog and a spittoon. It had six pink eyes in its chest. "Legiyame bretyjumum enumig, poovepel goo kawredo, coomakul zooklac," the creature said.
"OMG," Arthur said. "Care to repeat that in English?"
"Prune feather caulking gun toothpick slotted spoon get upset to plain," the thing screeched.
"Hurray. You can go back to your native language now. While you're at it, maybe you should go back to your native planet."
"Nokajety fire hose quoponodin."
"Why don't you take your fire hose and shove it in your cheek?" Arthur retorted.
The creature looked disagreeable. "Lutoowuko phepudimup oogogub, loohedood," it analyzed. "Pashoosat!" it continued.
"Your face is a pashoosat!"
He didn't know why he was being so mouthy to the strange, sleek creature; he was feeling unusually pensive. He tended to deal with the unknown the way he would deal with an annoying salesman or playing card salesman. If he had been carrying a crossbow, 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 Meyer will be delighted to see you."
The creature capered slightly and stared into space. Then it rose up on its fabulous legs, puffed out its spleen and sneaked despondently toward him.
For the first time, Arthur had the urge to run, but his skull was itching and his legs refused to move.
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