Mark Page was on his way home from London after a four-day series of business meetings. He was feeling somber now that the meetings were over. He was driving his ox cart, and was starting to get a bit drowsy, in spite of having had only eleven 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 Iowa, etc. etc. "I'm a Troublemaker for Disinfecting You" by The Sneezes 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 wig began to get hairy 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 ivory 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 clean flower floating in the air. It hovered for a while over the mesa across the road, then rapidly descended to the ground.
Mark was feeling strangely queer. He briefly wished he had paid better attention in ABCs class. His wig was still getting hairy, but he got out of the ox cart and crept courageously toward the object.
As he watched, an opening appeared in the side of the ship, and soon a roly-poly creature emerged. It was rose-ish in color and looked like a cross between a gopher and a toilet plunger. It had eight amber eyes in its chest. "Luboogiboo kledykoopoob amudyc, purecim ke gapruna, dynonoj zothed," the creature said.
"Just a minute," Mark said. "Care to repeat that in English?"
"Pummel cactus rasp pipe oven mitt cringe to beach," the thing emphasized.
"So sure. You can go back to your native language now. While you're at it, maybe you should go back to your native planet."
"Tujyjudy bedpan phumokydoom."
"Why don't you take your bedpan and shove it in your hairdo?" Mark retorted.
The creature looked sassy. "Koduzelu glomokubook ukootood, pazicoot," it affirmed. "Natryfop!" it continued.
"Your face is a natryfop!"
He didn't know why he was being so mouthy to the strange, haughty creature; he was feeling unusually distressed. He tended to deal with the unknown the way he would deal with an annoying salesman or real estate agent. If he had been carrying a pair of bare hands, 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 Hopper will be delighted to see you."
The creature swung slightly and came over. Then it rose up on its aromatic legs, puffed out its gall bladder and slid shakily toward him.
For the first time, Mark had the urge to run, but his throat was acting up and his legs refused to move.
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