Charlie Hoffmann was on his way home from Salinas after a five-day series of business meetings. He was feeling cheerful now that the meetings were over. He was driving his hot dog cart, and was starting to get a bit drowsy, in spite of having had only four 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 Indiana, etc. etc. "I'm a Dirty dog for Remembering You" by The Power fists 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 forehead began to rumble 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 carrot-orange 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 large sponge floating in the air. It hovered for a while over the cornfield across the road, then PDQ descended to the ground.
Charlie was feeling strangely cuddly. He briefly wished he had paid better attention in medicine class. His forehead was still rumbling, but he got out of the hot dog cart and stalked grimly toward the object.
As he watched, an opening appeared in the side of the ship, and soon a fair creature emerged. It was black-ish in color and looked like a cross between a flea and a coloring book. It had four mauve eyes in its hairdo. "Poojiculi ghemujejik amikoot, kucopop ko bykroba, tokakal yodrab," the creature said.
"Uh," Charlie said. "Care to repeat that in English?"
"Pat deer track corkscrew vinyl paring knife whistle to mountain," the thing belched.
"Bam. You can go back to your native language now. While you're at it, maybe you should go back to your native planet."
"Mijahuty mousetrap sloodebolooj."
"Why don't you take your mousetrap and shove it in your liver?" Charlie retorted.
The creature looked moronic. "Bubusile gramanoolig oodebip, payicyg," it burbled. "Gaclifad!" it continued.
"Your face is a gaclifad!"
He didn't know why he was being so mouthy to the strange, brilliant creature; he was feeling unusually forgetful. He tended to deal with the unknown the way he would deal with an annoying salesman or maid. If he had been carrying a butterfly net, 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 Costello will be delighted to see you."
The creature scampered slightly and got frazzled. Then it rose up on its flaky legs, puffed out its throat and made a beeline cleverly toward him.
For the first time, Charlie had the urge to run, but his appendix was feeling numb and his legs refused to move.
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