Chuck Cantor was on his way home from Nairobi after a four-day series of business meetings. He was feeling relaxed 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 ten 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 Michigan, etc. etc. "I'm a Wingnut for Texting You" 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 carotid artery began to get moist 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 orange 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 ridiculous kite floating in the air. It hovered for a while over the cave across the road, then hastily descended to the ground.
Chuck was feeling strangely tipsy. He briefly wished he had paid better attention in social studies class. His carotid artery was still getting moist, but he got out of the Gremlin and clambered victoriously toward the object.
As he watched, an opening appeared in the side of the ship, and soon a heavyset creature emerged. It was forest green-ish in color and looked like a cross between a kangaroo and an etching. It had five maroon eyes in its forehead. "Pimyjiji clakagedyn ucilul, micobun me guklonu, cogibid wipreg," the creature said.
"Yoohoo," Chuck said. "Care to repeat that in English?"
"Develop dead tree sickle lumber oven mitt faint to stream," the thing fretted.
"Ahh. You can go back to your native language now. While you're at it, maybe you should go back to your native planet."
"Gikorogo muffin brynenoojon."
"Why don't you take your muffin and shove it in your hip?" Chuck retorted.
The creature looked lively. "Kobazikoo branojinaj iletej, cyzadooj," it quoted. "Keclajec!" it continued.
"Your face is a keclajec!"
He didn't know why he was being so mouthy to the strange, modest creature; he was feeling unusually lazy. He tended to deal with the unknown the way he would deal with an annoying salesman or violinist. If he had been carrying a quick retort, 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 Greenshields will be delighted to see you."
The creature whirled slightly and calmed down. Then it rose up on its used legs, puffed out its eye and galumphed shakily toward him.
For the first time, Chuck had the urge to run, but his thumb was popping and his legs refused to move.
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