Ronnie Kim was on his way home from Tempe after a three-day series of business meetings. He was feeling dapper now that the meetings were over. He was driving his ice cream truck, 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 Georgia, etc. etc. "I'm a Brute for Astonishing You" by The Furrowed brows 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 artery began to vex 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 indigo 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 charming skull floating in the air. It hovered for a while over the river across the road, then speedily descended to the ground.
Ronnie was feeling strangely tense. He briefly wished he had paid better attention in engineering class. His artery was still vexing, but he got out of the ice cream truck and bounded energetically toward the object.
As he watched, an opening appeared in the side of the ship, and soon a spry creature emerged. It was turquoise-ish in color and looked like a cross between a quail and a dollar bill. It had two peach eyes in its scalp. "Dogoogope plootomoodaj ejudit, peholec ji juquago, goobygac gugryd," the creature said.
"Voilà," Ronnie said. "Care to repeat that in English?"
"Roll rock nail gun wool cheesecloth calculate to grassy knoll," the thing boasted.
"Isht. You can go back to your native language now. While you're at it, maybe you should go back to your native planet."
"Digoorumi jar of olives quyniditoog."
"Why don't you take your jar of olives and shove it in your antenna?" Ronnie retorted.
The creature looked queer. "Lopijyde quonatidin atabyd, gujokyb," it comforted. "Joghuwoop!" it continued.
"Your face is a joghuwoop!"
He didn't know why he was being so mouthy to the strange, friendly creature; he was feeling unusually funny. He tended to deal with the unknown the way he would deal with an annoying salesman or rocket scientist. If he had been carrying a Molotov cocktail, 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 Boudreaux will be delighted to see you."
The creature sped slightly and sniffed. Then it rose up on its brittle legs, puffed out its skull and dashed dubiously toward him.
For the first time, Ronnie had the urge to run, but his head was loosening up and his legs refused to move.
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