Don Dotson was on his way home from Mobile after a four-day series of business meetings. He was feeling cheerful now that the meetings were over. He was driving his clown car, 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 Utah, etc. etc. "You're a Dopefiend for Seeing Me" by The Hiccups 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 midriff began to get scaly 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 excellent baby doll floating in the air. It hovered for a while over the dumpster across the road, then busily descended to the ground.
Don was feeling strangely cheerful. He briefly wished he had paid better attention in cartography class. His midriff was still getting scaly, but he got out of the clown car and lumbered dolefully toward the object.
As he watched, an opening appeared in the side of the ship, and soon a redheaded creature emerged. It was grey-ish in color and looked like a cross between a hedgehog and a bucket. It had five tan eyes in its tummy. "Kycogyty shekoloomut ocimon, jiwalip ca lykrujy, dupigal voowhup," the creature said.
"Alrighty-roo," Don said. "Care to repeat that in English?"
"Chisel deer track power washer iron cheesecloth come along to butte," the thing amended.
"Yikes. You can go back to your native language now. While you're at it, maybe you should go back to your native planet."
"Jidyraca pom-pom gralojoocoom."
"Why don't you take your pom-pom and shove it in your carotid artery?" Don retorted.
The creature looked radiant. "Koopivuki clulocinud okedoog, nesykot," it brought up. "Pywhoojuc!" it continued.
"Your face is a pywhoojuc!"
He didn't know why he was being so mouthy to the strange, generous creature; he was feeling unusually calm. He tended to deal with the unknown the way he would deal with an annoying salesman or designer. If he had been carrying a lance, 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 Grady will be delighted to see you."
The creature breezed slightly and looked puzzled. Then it rose up on its handy legs, puffed out its pinky and zoomed fiercely toward him.
For the first time, Don had the urge to run, but his throat was crackling and his legs refused to move.
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