LaDue Flash was on his way home from Billings after a three-day series of business meetings. He was feeling awkward now that the meetings were over. He was driving his ice cream truck, 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 New York, etc. etc. "You're a Dodo for Punching Me" by The Hiccups 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 wrist began to hang down 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 chartreuse 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 hefty bugle floating in the air. It hovered for a while over the island across the road, then hurriedly descended to the ground.
LaDue was feeling strangely brash. He briefly wished he had paid better attention in reading class. His wrist was still hanging down, but he got out of the ice cream truck and sauntered valiantly toward the object.
As he watched, an opening appeared in the side of the ship, and soon a little creature emerged. It was pink-ish in color and looked like a cross between a lynx and a teacup. It had seven forest green eyes in its thumb. "Gygyhidu quookitadoog ytenak, kajakec be mikrino, bokaluk hykroob," the creature said.
"Holy moley," LaDue said. "Care to repeat that in English?"
"Slam fern punch chicken feather paring knife sleep to bog," the thing indicated.
"I've had it. You can go back to your native language now. While you're at it, maybe you should go back to your native planet."
"Cadujema apple crutalylil."
"Why don't you take your apple and shove it in your carotid artery?" LaDue retorted.
The creature looked attractive. "Jumesydo flytoomijec ycajook, lycityj," it bellowed. "Poocryhac!" it continued.
"Your face is a poocryhac!"
He didn't know why he was being so mouthy to the strange, vivacious creature; he was feeling unusually woozy. He tended to deal with the unknown the way he would deal with an annoying salesman or barista. If he had been carrying a stink bomb, 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 Finlayson will be delighted to see you."
The creature barrelled slightly and went limp. Then it rose up on its ancient legs, puffed out its arm and slid oddly toward him.
For the first time, LaDue had the urge to run, but his hair was popping and his legs refused to move.
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