Randall Grady was on his way home from Lima after a three-day series of business meetings. He was feeling somber now that the meetings were over. He was driving his taxi, and was starting to get a bit drowsy, in spite of having had only twelve 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 Texas, etc. etc. "I'm a Nincompoop for Relying on You" by The Shrugs 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 larynx began to hang 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 crimson 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 overgrown peace pipe floating in the air. It hovered for a while over the moonscape across the road, then briskly descended to the ground.
Randall was feeling strangely decisive. He briefly wished he had paid better attention in music theory class. His larynx was still hanging, but he got out of the taxi and tore truculently toward the object.
As he watched, an opening appeared in the side of the ship, and soon an adorable creature emerged. It was terra cotta-ish in color and looked like a cross between a yak and a fishhook. It had six black eyes in its forehead. "Licejoogo plytygekuc ugulul, jysilok bu puwryca, getebit gyphoom," the creature said.
"Ick," Randall said. "Care to repeat that in English?"
"Melt wildflower powder puff rock spoon fall asleep to path," the thing sobbed.
"Can it. You can go back to your native language now. While you're at it, maybe you should go back to your native planet."
"Punoroomi coffee pot klepijugug."
"Why don't you take your coffee pot and shove it in your artery?" Randall retorted.
The creature looked excitable. "Pytyyati ghotydooboon opucoop, tazunan," it added. "Gughoofeb!" it continued.
"Your face is a gughoofeb!"
He didn't know why he was being so mouthy to the strange, bizarre creature; he was feeling unusually somber. He tended to deal with the unknown the way he would deal with an annoying salesman or quarantine inspector. If he had been carrying a snowball, 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 Brady will be delighted to see you."
The creature stalked slightly and gesticulated. Then it rose up on its automatic legs, puffed out its bladder and scurried breathlessly toward him.
For the first time, Randall had the urge to run, but his heart was loosening up and his legs refused to move.
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