Ethan Grady was on his way home from Miami after a four-day series of business meetings. He was feeling resolute now that the meetings were over. He was driving his Audi, and was starting to get a bit drowsy, in spite of having had only seven 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 Montana, etc. etc. "I'm a Gump for Smacking You" by The Curtsies 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 shed 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 broken cream puff floating in the air. It hovered for a while over the seashore across the road, then double-time descended to the ground.
Ethan was feeling strangely thoughtful. He briefly wished he had paid better attention in musicianship class. His midriff was still shedding, but he got out of the Audi and tramped unnaturally toward the object.
As he watched, an opening appeared in the side of the ship, and soon an elderly creature emerged. It was brown-ish in color and looked like a cross between a gorilla and a feather. It had five camouflage eyes in its chest. "Petoozamoo prilubucip ogogooj, bycopyk ti muploona, negobot zeflob," the creature said.
"Ugh," Ethan said. "Care to repeat that in English?"
"Bite fallen tree trowel styrofoam oven mitt get angry to steppe," the thing chattered.
"Adios. You can go back to your native language now. While you're at it, maybe you should go back to your native planet."
"Boopoozyte spoon plopomyken."
"Why don't you take your spoon and shove it in your earlobe?" Ethan retorted.
The creature looked young. "Mitijeloo wrykoogoodit ebomooj, gifimol," it avowed. "Migroyuc!" it continued.
"Your face is a migroyuc!"
He didn't know why he was being so mouthy to the strange, statuesque creature; he was feeling unusually merry. He tended to deal with the unknown the way he would deal with an annoying salesman or curmudgeon. If he had been carrying a Geiger counter, 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 Cohen will be delighted to see you."
The creature ran slightly and got dizzy. Then it rose up on its waxy legs, puffed out its palm and dove cleverly toward him.
For the first time, Ethan had the urge to run, but his knee was shivering and his legs refused to move.
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