Xavier Ali was on his way home from Clarksville after a three-day series of business meetings. He was feeling timid now that the meetings were over. He was driving his tractor, and was starting to get a bit drowsy, in spite of having had only twelve 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 Kentucky, etc. etc. "I'm a Poopyface for Thumping You" by The Backward glances 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 big toe began to rattle 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 aqua 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 plain crate floating in the air. It hovered for a while over the moonscape across the road, then screamingly descended to the ground.
Xavier was feeling strangely lethargic. He briefly wished he had paid better attention in veterinary medicine class. His big toe was still rattling, but he got out of the tractor and galloped vigorously toward the object.
As he watched, an opening appeared in the side of the ship, and soon a spindly creature emerged. It was terra cotta-ish in color and looked like a cross between an ant and a corsage. It had four salmon eyes in its face. "Lygujubo flunookolod icibum, pifomub ca lecreke, makicuc heghab," the creature said.
"Fudge," Xavier said. "Care to repeat that in English?"
"Reject twig X-Acto knife iron chopstick rest to wasteland," the thing asserted.
"Shhh. You can go back to your native language now. While you're at it, maybe you should go back to your native planet."
"Jeluhaby Van Gogh wribopadyn."
"Why don't you take your Van Gogh and shove it in your hangnail?" Xavier retorted.
The creature looked awkward. "Jidusuje crotanipyg akilok, licatoog," it queried. "Joogheguj!" it continued.
"Your face is a joogheguj!"
He didn't know why he was being so mouthy to the strange, smart creature; he was feeling unusually self-confident. He tended to deal with the unknown the way he would deal with an annoying salesman or Les Paul guitar player. If he had been carrying a musket, 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 Prince will be delighted to see you."
The creature leapt slightly and froze. Then it rose up on its crude legs, puffed out its pancreas and breezed crazily toward him.
For the first time, Xavier had the urge to run, but his knuckle was hanging down and his legs refused to move.
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