Barry Dotson was on his way home from Bismarck after a four-day series of business meetings. He was feeling nervous now that the meetings were over. He was driving his school bus, 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 Iowa, etc. etc. "You're a Weenie for Biting Me" by The Belches 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 tooth began to wrinkle 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 navy blue 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 plastic water bottle floating in the air. It hovered for a while over the oasis across the road, then moderately descended to the ground.
Barry was feeling strangely cruel. He briefly wished he had paid better attention in dressage class. His tooth was still wrinkling, but he got out of the school bus and galumphed truculently toward the object.
As he watched, an opening appeared in the side of the ship, and soon a dinky creature emerged. It was terra cotta-ish in color and looked like a cross between a cat and a pop bottle. It had six jade eyes in its knuckle. "Dedifago thujalakyd inukook, gygatet bu tidrapoo, jejamob waghon," the creature said.
"Zounds," Barry said. "Care to repeat that in English?"
"Grapple mulberry tree woodworker's clamp tin foot curtsey to grassy knoll," the thing intimated.
"Dum de dum dum. You can go back to your native language now. While you're at it, maybe you should go back to your native planet."
"Gubafilu comb cretatebat."
"Why don't you take your comb and shove it in your elbow?" Barry retorted.
The creature looked brave. "Joobifooge phejibetac obepod, liyodej," it continued. "Kewryhag!" it continued.
"Your face is a kewryhag!"
He didn't know why he was being so mouthy to the strange, difficult creature; he was feeling unusually shy. He tended to deal with the unknown the way he would deal with an annoying salesman or pharmacist. If he had been carrying a sling, 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 Flanagan will be delighted to see you."
The creature dashed slightly and fulminated. Then it rose up on its delicate legs, puffed out its stomach and made a beeline mysteriously toward him.
For the first time, Barry had the urge to run, but his head was aggravating and his legs refused to move.
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