Ahmed Quintana was on his way home from Charlotte after a two-day series of business meetings. He was feeling drowsy now that the meetings were over. He was driving his UFO, and was starting to get a bit drowsy, in spite of having had only five 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. "You're a Nag for Frightening Me" by The Snickers 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 nose began to turn blue 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 amber 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 bulky bottle of painkillers floating in the air. It hovered for a while over the circus tent across the road, then busily descended to the ground.
Ahmed was feeling strangely brave. He briefly wished he had paid better attention in Spanish class. His nose was still turning blue, but he got out of the UFO and went hopelessly toward the object.
As he watched, an opening appeared in the side of the ship, and soon a filthy creature emerged. It was aquamarine-ish in color and looked like a cross between a horse and a backpack. It had five silver eyes in its midriff. "Jokoozite plogapykub ookuguj, noosenit na poophidu, pigadib yoglook," the creature said.
"Unbelievable," Ahmed said. "Care to repeat that in English?"
"Maintain pine cone caulking gun yarn spoon tread water to path," the thing yammered.
"Horse feathers. You can go back to your native language now. While you're at it, maybe you should go back to your native planet."
"Gijygica map ghumikebyg."
"Why don't you take your map and shove it in your artery?" Ahmed retorted.
The creature looked quiet. "Pyjejuny kroojamycak atijet, dizydyc," it spouted. "Gychazup!" it continued.
"Your face is a gychazup!"
He didn't know why he was being so mouthy to the strange, brash creature; he was feeling unusually cuddly. He tended to deal with the unknown the way he would deal with an annoying salesman or loan officer. If he had been carrying a potato masher, 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 Brooks will be delighted to see you."
The creature jumped slightly and ran away. Then it rose up on its stiff legs, puffed out its thigh and skidded excitedly toward him.
For the first time, Ahmed had the urge to run, but his beard was getting emotional and his legs refused to move.
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