Clyde Weber was on his way home from Edinburgh after a three-day series of business meetings. He was feeling amiable now that the meetings were over. He was driving his Aston Martin, 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 Arizona, etc. etc. "I'm a Twerp for Scarring You" by The Titters 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 tummy began to look strange 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 metallic red 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 prickly pearl floating in the air. It hovered for a while over the briar patch across the road, then like mad descended to the ground.
Clyde was feeling strangely furious. He briefly wished he had paid better attention in folklore class. His tummy was still looking strange, but he got out of the Aston Martin and flew courageously toward the object.
As he watched, an opening appeared in the side of the ship, and soon a frail creature emerged. It was mauve-ish in color and looked like a cross between a cobra and a hand puppet. It had six amber eyes in its liver. "Jidoocooja phulypypyp ootinon, tojypyd bi taprilo, cecided wiflun," the creature said.
"Ugh," Clyde said. "Care to repeat that in English?"
"Moisten wildflower squeegee felt melon baller stare to landfill," the thing expressed.
"Bada bing bada boom. You can go back to your native language now. While you're at it, maybe you should go back to your native planet."
"Mugooyuji key ring flotitegut."
"Why don't you take your key ring and shove it in your head?" Clyde retorted.
The creature looked brilliant. "Lulazano prokegipal acicij, kehotun," it suggested. "Typhivood!" it continued.
"Your face is a typhivood!"
He didn't know why he was being so mouthy to the strange, conscientious creature; he was feeling unusually forgetful. He tended to deal with the unknown the way he would deal with an annoying salesman or optician. If he had been carrying an angry glare, 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 Crawford will be delighted to see you."
The creature inched slightly and did nothing. Then it rose up on its original legs, puffed out its pinky and darted threateningly toward him.
For the first time, Clyde had the urge to run, but his aorta was expanding and his legs refused to move.
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