White Cloud Klinger was on his way home from Hamburg after a four-day series of business meetings. He was feeling drowsy now that the meetings were over. He was driving his Edsel, and was starting to get a bit drowsy, in spite of having had only two 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 Michigan, etc. etc. "You're a Psycho for Yelling at Me" by The Yawns 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 chest began to move 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 fuchsia 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 small curling iron floating in the air. It hovered for a while over the ridge across the road, then deliberately descended to the ground.
White Cloud was feeling strangely fearful. He briefly wished he had paid better attention in addition class. His chest was still moving, but he got out of the Edsel and climbed coolly toward the object.
As he watched, an opening appeared in the side of the ship, and soon a pimply creature emerged. It was red-ish in color and looked like a cross between a coyote and a rope. It had two forest green eyes in its forehead. "Jutoyuba shilonelob olapij, jefemoj ke mytrubu, gubotok sychig," the creature said.
"Voilà," White Cloud said. "Care to repeat that in English?"
"Refurbish pine cone sickle dream and vision slotted spoon barf to plateau," the thing sniped.
"Buzzards. You can go back to your native language now. While you're at it, maybe you should go back to your native planet."
"Baguhaki primrose bragoolugoj."
"Why don't you take your primrose and shove it in your scalp?" White Cloud retorted.
The creature looked unruffled. "Golerobu proonakibid enygac, gavadym," it croaked. "Degryhan!" it continued.
"Your face is a degryhan!"
He didn't know why he was being so mouthy to the strange, childish creature; he was feeling unusually decisive. He tended to deal with the unknown the way he would deal with an annoying salesman or baker. If he had been carrying a witty reparteé, 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 Emery will be delighted to see you."
The creature dove slightly and played. Then it rose up on its loose legs, puffed out its eye and slid victoriously toward him.
For the first time, White Cloud had the urge to run, but his midriff was exfoliating and his legs refused to move.
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