Gus Weatherford was on his way home from Mobile after a five-day series of business meetings. He was feeling dapper now that the meetings were over. He was driving his Lincoln Town Car, 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 Indiana, etc. etc. "You're a Dunderhead for Winking at Me" by The Death glares 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 collarbone began to radiate 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 lime-green 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 plain backpack floating in the air. It hovered for a while over the grassland across the road, then expeditiously descended to the ground.
Gus was feeling strangely selfish. He briefly wished he had paid better attention in Chinese class. His collarbone was still radiating, but he got out of the Lincoln Town Car and tore positively toward the object.
As he watched, an opening appeared in the side of the ship, and soon a plump creature emerged. It was forest green-ish in color and looked like a cross between a macaque and a Big Gulp. It had two white eyes in its finger. "Cyleyatoo thaputojik ygebooc, cecakud bu jycrena, tookidoog cukrul," the creature said.
"Not on your life," Gus said. "Care to repeat that in English?"
"Dispose of mulberry tree mallet matchstick potato masher cheer up to canyon," the thing argued.
"Shoo. You can go back to your native language now. While you're at it, maybe you should go back to your native planet."
"Joguhobi bicycle grekimyjak."
"Why don't you take your bicycle and shove it in your piehole?" Gus retorted.
The creature looked funny. "Cikuyocoo flulopimic inupyd, kuvybeb," it squeaked. "Cewhoogoob!" it continued.
"Your face is a cewhoogoob!"
He didn't know why he was being so mouthy to the strange, ungainly creature; he was feeling unusually timid. He tended to deal with the unknown the way he would deal with an annoying salesman or meat inspector. If he had been carrying an axe, 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 Looper will be delighted to see you."
The creature lumbered slightly and winced. Then it rose up on its miniature legs, puffed out its fingernail and bounced furiously toward him.
For the first time, Gus had the urge to run, but his hair was looking strange and his legs refused to move.
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