Mikey Carter was on his way home from Sunnyvale after a two-day series of business meetings. He was feeling self-confident now that the meetings were over. He was driving his Ford Explorer, and was starting to get a bit drowsy, in spite of having had only three 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 Hampshire, etc. etc. "You're a Dirty rat for Praying for Me" by The Sneezes 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 nostril began to throb 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 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 autographed ping-pong paddle floating in the air. It hovered for a while over the valley across the road, then at a crawl descended to the ground.
Mikey was feeling strangely timid. He briefly wished he had paid better attention in Greek class. His nostril was still throbbing, but he got out of the Ford Explorer and pranced suspiciously toward the object.
As he watched, an opening appeared in the side of the ship, and soon a chubby creature emerged. It was beige-ish in color and looked like a cross between an ape and a stuffed kitten. It had two lime-green eyes in its larynx. "Locufigi shemitapad ejekid, derumooj doo byphukoo, liletub rufrim," the creature said.
"I'm on it," Mikey said. "Care to repeat that in English?"
"Clean egg shell glue gun asphalt foot hang around to steppe," the thing burbled.
"Blast. You can go back to your native language now. While you're at it, maybe you should go back to your native planet."
"Cebojuma can of shaving cream frigumamik."
"Why don't you take your can of shaving cream and shove it in your esophagus?" Mikey retorted.
The creature looked coy. "Totuwete drokekajog ucygoom, bojetoc," it growled. "Dighyjym!" it continued.
"Your face is a dighyjym!"
He didn't know why he was being so mouthy to the strange, smart creature; he was feeling unusually tired. He tended to deal with the unknown the way he would deal with an annoying salesman or factory worker. If he had been carrying a stethoscope, 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 Sales will be delighted to see you."
The creature zipped slightly and looked puzzled. Then it rose up on its gross legs, puffed out its jaw and reeled blindly toward him.
For the first time, Mikey had the urge to run, but his neck was awakening and his legs refused to move.
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