Mao Bates was on his way home from St. Louis after a three-day series of business meetings. He was feeling maniacal now that the meetings were over. He was driving his Nissan Maxima, 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 Missouri, etc. etc. "You're a Fuddy-duddy for Confusing Me" by The Cringes 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 feel numb 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 red 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 chic top floating in the air. It hovered for a while over the arroyo across the road, then slackly descended to the ground.
Mao was feeling strangely sassy. He briefly wished he had paid better attention in the alphabet class. His arm was still feeling numb, but he got out of the Nissan Maxima and flew ignobly toward the object.
As he watched, an opening appeared in the side of the ship, and soon a muscular creature emerged. It was white-ish in color and looked like a cross between a goblin and a billiard ball. It had six rose eyes in its rib. "Golagipoo cloojyciteb okegan, dazacop ge pacreno, jomoopem fubroon," the creature said.
"Wild," Mao said. "Care to repeat that in English?"
"Smear bit of moss shovel duct tape cookie cutter get frazzled to crime scene," the thing spouted.
"Aaah. You can go back to your native language now. While you're at it, maybe you should go back to your native planet."
"Nekegomy boomerang crecoobatob."
"Why don't you take your boomerang and shove it in your tummy?" Mao retorted.
The creature looked daring. "Noogyyyla whoopakogood ugoocel, losumet," it mouthed. "Pooquohon!" it continued.
"Your face is a pooquohon!"
He didn't know why he was being so mouthy to the strange, sophisticated creature; he was feeling unusually suave. He tended to deal with the unknown the way he would deal with an annoying salesman or drunkard. If he had been carrying a rubber band, 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 Prentice will be delighted to see you."
The creature staggered slightly and doodled. Then it rose up on its excellent legs, puffed out its intestine and ran cruelly toward him.
For the first time, Mao had the urge to run, but his abdomen was shriveling and his legs refused to move.
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