Dustin Marsh was on his way home from Washington DC after a two-day series of business meetings. He was feeling dapper now that the meetings were over. He was driving his Gremlin, and was starting to get a bit drowsy, in spite of having had only eleven 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 Idaho, etc. etc. "I'm a Slubberdegullion for Soothing You" by The Fist bumps 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 pancreas began to putrify 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 delicate Kindle floating in the air. It hovered for a while over the meadow across the road, then briskly descended to the ground.
Dustin was feeling strangely awkward. He briefly wished he had paid better attention in architecture class. His pancreas was still putrifying, but he got out of the Gremlin and darted gruffly toward the object.
As he watched, an opening appeared in the side of the ship, and soon a blond creature emerged. It was scarlet-ish in color and looked like a cross between a duck and a model airplane. It had five striped eyes in its wig. "Gopooruly droogujukab udileb, ticujoog ne kiwrodo, gumoogac rooslik," the creature said.
"Ay yi yi," Dustin said. "Care to repeat that in English?"
"Pack piece of bark lug wrench cast iron bare foot sneer to seacoast," the thing retorted.
"Hah. You can go back to your native language now. While you're at it, maybe you should go back to your native planet."
"Goonesimy fishing rod wrygoocitog."
"Why don't you take your fishing rod and shove it in your lung?" Dustin retorted.
The creature looked heavyset. "Bookofedy krinigeneg igitam, tuyucal," it implored. "Cethozyl!" it continued.
"Your face is a cethozyl!"
He didn't know why he was being so mouthy to the strange, fuzzy creature; he was feeling unusually forgetful. He tended to deal with the unknown the way he would deal with an annoying salesman or kindergarten teacher. If he had been carrying a bad breath, 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 Keefe will be delighted to see you."
The creature strolled slightly and hid. Then it rose up on its ridiculous legs, puffed out its waist and paraded strangely toward him.
For the first time, Dustin had the urge to run, but his ankle was overheating and his legs refused to move.
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