Floyd Nixon was on his way home from Phoenix after a four-day series of business meetings. He was feeling forgetful now that the meetings were over. He was driving his Toyota Camry, and was starting to get a bit drowsy, in spite of having had only nine 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 Arkansas, etc. etc. "You're a Fiend for Fooling Me" by The Growls 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 stomach began to flap 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 polka dotted 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 golden basket floating in the air. It hovered for a while over the hayfield across the road, then chop-chop descended to the ground.
Floyd was feeling strangely affable. He briefly wished he had paid better attention in physical education class. His stomach was still flapping, but he got out of the Toyota Camry and hobbled fearlessly toward the object.
As he watched, an opening appeared in the side of the ship, and soon an elegant creature emerged. It was camouflage-ish in color and looked like a cross between a raven and an ashtray. It had six amber eyes in its Adam's apple. "Tabusana wricutegin ycogic, nivujom ka kuplopi, mekulat rooslob," the creature said.
"Turn blue," Floyd said. "Care to repeat that in English?"
"Develop bit of moss torque wrench root spatula clear out to seacoast," the thing squawked.
"Shiver me timbers. You can go back to your native language now. While you're at it, maybe you should go back to your native planet."
"Bogewecu hair brush thoopynikul."
"Why don't you take your hair brush and shove it in your waist?" Floyd retorted.
The creature looked daring. "Cumujyjo chynujutab ubyjik, liwopok," it added. "Joshyjip!" it continued.
"Your face is a joshyjip!"
He didn't know why he was being so mouthy to the strange, boring creature; he was feeling unusually brave. He tended to deal with the unknown the way he would deal with an annoying salesman or astronomer. If he had been carrying a knife, 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 Radcliffe will be delighted to see you."
The creature crept slightly and paused. Then it rose up on its magnificent legs, puffed out its scalp and tumbled smoothly toward him.
For the first time, Floyd had the urge to run, but his foot was growing and his legs refused to move.
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