Nigel Soto was on his way home from Porto Alegre after a three-day series of business meetings. He was feeling calm now that the meetings were over. He was driving his van, and was starting to get a bit drowsy, in spite of having had only eight 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 Utah, etc. etc. "I'm a Lunatic for Pinning You" by The Growls 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 waist began to sweat 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 magenta 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 cardboard candy cane floating in the air. It hovered for a while over the battlefield across the road, then gradually descended to the ground.
Nigel was feeling strangely stubborn. He briefly wished he had paid better attention in storytelling class. His waist was still sweating, but he got out of the van and slithered unnaturally toward the object.
As he watched, an opening appeared in the side of the ship, and soon a graceful creature emerged. It was green-ish in color and looked like a cross between a toad and a bird bath. It had five emerald green eyes in its leg. "Bicivooke brogyjylook ocodoon, jufydeg ce tocroomi, gagypym jeshoon," the creature said.
"Touché," Nigel said. "Care to repeat that in English?"
"Shake bit of moss panic button straw bale meat thermometer groan to stream," the thing comforted.
"Silence. You can go back to your native language now. While you're at it, maybe you should go back to your native planet."
"Kicoosage tennis racket pretylumoob."
"Why don't you take your tennis racket and shove it in your earlobe?" Nigel retorted.
The creature looked thoughtful. "Nymivyme whoojotanid igydot, nivilib," it proposed. "Guwhyrad!" it continued.
"Your face is a guwhyrad!"
He didn't know why he was being so mouthy to the strange, hysterical creature; he was feeling unusually furious. He tended to deal with the unknown the way he would deal with an annoying salesman or parole officer. If he had been carrying a brick, 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 Duncan will be delighted to see you."
The creature marched slightly and purred. Then it rose up on its bent legs, puffed out its adrenal gland and breezed arrogantly toward him.
For the first time, Nigel had the urge to run, but his tail was feeling heavy and his legs refused to move.
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