Giovanni Logan was on his way home from Pembroke after a three-day series of business meetings. He was feeling irate now that the meetings were over. He was driving his Dodge Viper, and was starting to get a bit drowsy, in spite of having had only four 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 Tennessee, etc. etc. "I'm a Big oaf for Splitting up with You" by The Sneers 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 wrist began to widen 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 grey 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 shiny ingot of plutonium floating in the air. It hovered for a while over the trail across the road, then PDQ descended to the ground.
Giovanni was feeling strangely confident. He briefly wished he had paid better attention in programming class. His wrist was still widening, but he got out of the Dodge Viper and dashed violently toward the object.
As he watched, an opening appeared in the side of the ship, and soon a demonic creature emerged. It was ivory-ish in color and looked like a cross between a boa constrictor and a pillow. It had three lime-green eyes in its tummy. "Teboosyju chalidolum ategug, lejamum ta gothagy, jimopoj yidrol," the creature said.
"Holy buckets," Giovanni said. "Care to repeat that in English?"
"Grab bear track sickle gingerbread sharp knife calm down to seacoast," the thing inquired.
"If only. You can go back to your native language now. While you're at it, maybe you should go back to your native planet."
"Gucogede garbage can shimomucun."
"Why don't you take your garbage can and shove it in your gall bladder?" Giovanni retorted.
The creature looked coy. "Bapovucu brookimekob ojoobed, naropej," it declaimed. "Cegroohup!" it continued.
"Your face is a cegroohup!"
He didn't know why he was being so mouthy to the strange, taciturn creature; he was feeling unusually perky. He tended to deal with the unknown the way he would deal with an annoying salesman or gravedigger. If he had been carrying a pair of brass knuckles, 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 Brady will be delighted to see you."
The creature reeled slightly and slept. Then it rose up on its chic legs, puffed out its adrenal gland and went properly toward him.
For the first time, Giovanni had the urge to run, but his collarbone was relaxing and his legs refused to move.
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