Doc Pope was on his way home from Worcester after a five-day series of business meetings. He was feeling cruel now that the meetings were over. He was driving his Dodge Dart, and was starting to get a bit drowsy, in spite of having had only nine 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 Mexico, etc. etc. "You're a Stinker for Yelling at Me" by The Bounds 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 tooth began to burble 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 teal 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 funny dish floating in the air. It hovered for a while over the moonscape across the road, then hurriedly descended to the ground.
Doc was feeling strangely proud. He briefly wished he had paid better attention in songwriting class. His tooth was still burbling, but he got out of the Dodge Dart and clambered effortlessly toward the object.
As he watched, an opening appeared in the side of the ship, and soon a tiny creature emerged. It was teal-ish in color and looked like a cross between a baboon and a football. It had six chocolate brown eyes in its antenna. "Pinohyca shodagootoon oogoodooc, cywukaj go pawhydi, comookyb yogluc," the creature said.
"Horse feathers," Doc said. "Care to repeat that in English?"
"Protect twig putty knife platinum strainer blink to garden," the thing rumored.
"Who says?. You can go back to your native language now. While you're at it, maybe you should go back to your native planet."
"Doogifyda battery crajubobin."
"Why don't you take your battery and shove it in your eyelid?" Doc retorted.
The creature looked bold. "Tiloowona krikigekib oopookuk, pigyloob," it piped up. "Lyplozim!" it continued.
"Your face is a lyplozim!"
He didn't know why he was being so mouthy to the strange, shiftless creature; he was feeling unusually forgetful. He tended to deal with the unknown the way he would deal with an annoying salesman or interior designer. If he had been carrying an atomic weapon, 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 Wayman will be delighted to see you."
The creature struggled slightly and lounged. Then it rose up on its bronze legs, puffed out its claw and sped nervously toward him.
For the first time, Doc had the urge to run, but his belly button was hardening and his legs refused to move.
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