Boots Skye was on his way home from Addis Ababa after a two-day series of business meetings. He was feeling perky now that the meetings were over. He was driving his transporter, 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 New Jersey, etc. etc. "You're a Gump for Singing to Me" by The Blushes 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 paw began to droop 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 aqua 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 well worn shotgun floating in the air. It hovered for a while over the outback across the road, then heavily descended to the ground.
Boots was feeling strangely merry. He briefly wished he had paid better attention in astronomy class. His paw was still drooping, but he got out of the transporter and trotted quietly toward the object.
As he watched, an opening appeared in the side of the ship, and soon an elderly creature emerged. It was yellow-ish in color and looked like a cross between a shark and a ruler. It had six chocolate brown eyes in its little finger. "Majusiky drykacojoog ycukud, najyjam di noocrepa, bedelit zifril," the creature said.
"It's my party and I'll cry if I want to," Boots said. "Care to repeat that in English?"
"Finish dead tree cotton swab slate knife pucker to stream," the thing interpreted.
"Ppppbbbft. You can go back to your native language now. While you're at it, maybe you should go back to your native planet."
"Keducocy pumpkin crakanajit."
"Why don't you take your pumpkin and shove it in your skin?" Boots retorted.
The creature looked arrogant. "Mypojubu wruputypec odakod, lagecyt," it chortled. "Ceghefal!" it continued.
"Your face is a ceghefal!"
He didn't know why he was being so mouthy to the strange, intelligent creature; he was feeling unusually cheerful. He tended to deal with the unknown the way he would deal with an annoying salesman or stagehand. If he had been carrying a six-pack, 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 Moretti will be delighted to see you."
The creature jogged slightly and sat still. Then it rose up on its original legs, puffed out its Achilles tendon and hobbled pityingly toward him.
For the first time, Boots had the urge to run, but his hand was vexing and his legs refused to move.
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