Andrew Trane was on his way home from Dubai after a two-day series of business meetings. He was feeling brash now that the meetings were over. He was driving his ATV, and was starting to get a bit drowsy, in spite of having had only seven 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 Maine, etc. etc. "You're a Pansy for Glaring at Me" by The Hugs 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 dignity began to growl 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 green 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 sophisticated pair of knitting needles floating in the air. It hovered for a while over the mountaintop across the road, then like crazy descended to the ground.
Andrew was feeling strangely proud. He briefly wished he had paid better attention in underwater basket weaving class. His dignity was still growling, but he got out of the ATV and stormed glibly toward the object.
As he watched, an opening appeared in the side of the ship, and soon a shapely creature emerged. It was polka dotted-ish in color and looked like a cross between a pig and an accordion. It had six fuchsia eyes in its dignity. "Cyligogoo frytoomamug upumad, kefelen ji kipryti, tucyleg fughook," the creature said.
"Stoked," Andrew said. "Care to repeat that in English?"
"Sharpen cactus scythe antimatter dish cloth peep to prairie," the thing concluded.
"Gadzooks and crapadoodle. You can go back to your native language now. While you're at it, maybe you should go back to your native planet."
"Gygijaby package whitecymap."
"Why don't you take your package and shove it in your jaw?" Andrew retorted.
The creature looked witty. "Poopowete whoocoobyjom utumul, pooyajooc," it hollered. "Kewhijul!" it continued.
"Your face is a kewhijul!"
He didn't know why he was being so mouthy to the strange, pigeon-toed creature; he was feeling unusually self-confident. He tended to deal with the unknown the way he would deal with an annoying salesman or loan officer. If he had been carrying a stethoscope, 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 Wimple will be delighted to see you."
The creature breezed slightly and turned blue. Then it rose up on its rigid legs, puffed out its heel and crawled mysteriously toward him.
For the first time, Andrew had the urge to run, but his knee was acting weird and his legs refused to move.
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