Ken Arnold was on his way home from Fort Collins after a four-day series of business meetings. He was feeling impish now that the meetings were over. He was driving his cab, 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 Alabama, etc. etc. "You're a Nerd for Soothing 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 eyelid began to ache 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 hideous clothespin floating in the air. It hovered for a while over the dump across the road, then rapidly descended to the ground.
Ken was feeling strangely distressed. He briefly wished he had paid better attention in public relations class. His eyelid was still aching, but he got out of the cab and trekked merrily toward the object.
As he watched, an opening appeared in the side of the ship, and soon an obese creature emerged. It was periwinkle-ish in color and looked like a cross between a chimpanzee and an oriental vase. It had three camouflage eyes in its nostril. "Kekocomo frijoogutak ocelec, jahapop pe necragi, pinogooj sooglij," the creature said.
"Freaky," Ken said. "Care to repeat that in English?"
"Liquify raspberry bush curling iron platinum whisk flail to dump," the thing piped up.
"Brrr. You can go back to your native language now. While you're at it, maybe you should go back to your native planet."
"Makivagu brochure whookybecym."
"Why don't you take your brochure and shove it in your ear?" Ken retorted.
The creature looked freakish. "Cupygoobo drikunotyt iponap, dahecig," it alleged. "Loobruwec!" it continued.
"Your face is a loobruwec!"
He didn't know why he was being so mouthy to the strange, obnoxious creature; he was feeling unusually cuddly. He tended to deal with the unknown the way he would deal with an annoying salesman or undercover agent. If he had been carrying a flamethrower, 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 Busch will be delighted to see you."
The creature lurched slightly and wept. Then it rose up on its narrow legs, puffed out its wrist and bounced grimly toward him.
For the first time, Ken had the urge to run, but his wig was itching and his legs refused to move.
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