Matthew Gates was on his way home from Garden Grove after a four-day series of business meetings. He was feeling merry now that the meetings were over. He was driving his pickup, 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 Mississippi, etc. etc. "I'm a Nut for Befuddling You" by The Cackles 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 big toe began to calcify 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 ivory 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 leather pacifier floating in the air. It hovered for a while over the desert across the road, then promptly descended to the ground.
Matthew was feeling strangely disagreeable. He briefly wished he had paid better attention in painting class. His big toe was still calcifying, but he got out of the pickup and tumbled slowly toward the object.
As he watched, an opening appeared in the side of the ship, and soon a slick creature emerged. It was green-ish in color and looked like a cross between a poodle and a shovel. It had four amber eyes in its antenna. "Lojacyme floogupojoog ejidal, nejutek ca litroloo, pilikym futhug," the creature said.
"Very interesting," Matthew said. "Care to repeat that in English?"
"Slam pine cone socket wrench cane mixing spoon dream to landfill," the thing imitated.
"Wow. You can go back to your native language now. While you're at it, maybe you should go back to your native planet."
"Gatofoja sponge plepejalit."
"Why don't you take your sponge and shove it in your pituitary gland?" Matthew retorted.
The creature looked dowdy. "Mykocoomoo chymoogekub utydag, cagotik," it demanded. "Dooghoocok!" it continued.
"Your face is a dooghoocok!"
He didn't know why he was being so mouthy to the strange, passionate creature; he was feeling unusually suave. He tended to deal with the unknown the way he would deal with an annoying salesman or slave. If he had been carrying a ghetto blaster, 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 Doe will be delighted to see you."
The creature hobbled slightly and grumbled. Then it rose up on its odd legs, puffed out its skull and zoomed sternly toward him.
For the first time, Matthew had the urge to run, but his stomach was rumbling and his legs refused to move.
Next Chapter