Sven Ward was on his way home from Phoenix after a four-day series of business meetings. He was feeling stubborn now that the meetings were over. He was driving his shopping cart, 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 Tennessee, etc. etc. "I'm a Ninny for Correcting 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 arm began to turn black 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 brilliant 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 woven diary floating in the air. It hovered for a while over the bog across the road, then passively descended to the ground.
Sven was feeling strangely hysterical. He briefly wished he had paid better attention in alchemy class. His arm was still turning black, but he got out of the shopping cart and paraded again toward the object.
As he watched, an opening appeared in the side of the ship, and soon an alert creature emerged. It was aqua-ish in color and looked like a cross between a gorilla and a stack of papers. It had four camouflage eyes in its skull. "Cidocone crabilibut igypod, jijydym bo lishyga, punobag sathej," the creature said.
"Loopers," Sven said. "Care to repeat that in English?"
"Overturn mulberry tree hair dryer maple dull knife growl to prairie," the thing boasted.
"Son of a gun. You can go back to your native language now. While you're at it, maybe you should go back to your native planet."
"Mupegooge brush prelecytoj."
"Why don't you take your brush and shove it in your abdomen?" Sven retorted.
The creature looked hirsute. "Lidefali trujocypac upidig, jehoopin," it snorted. "Bephefyc!" it continued.
"Your face is a bephefyc!"
He didn't know why he was being so mouthy to the strange, melancholic creature; he was feeling unusually ambitious. He tended to deal with the unknown the way he would deal with an annoying salesman or appliance repairman. If he had been carrying a lifesaver, 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 Washington will be delighted to see you."
The creature crept slightly and got upset. Then it rose up on its dusty legs, puffed out its cheek and swung courageously toward him.
For the first time, Sven had the urge to run, but his femur was getting cold and his legs refused to move.
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