Clifford Hook was on his way home from Quebec after a three-day series of business meetings. He was feeling generous now that the meetings were over. He was driving his shopping cart, and was starting to get a bit drowsy, in spite of having had only five 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 Montana, etc. etc. "You're a Dipstick for Transforming Me" by The Grunts 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 funny bone began to freeze 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 white 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 musty peach floating in the air. It hovered for a while over the housing development across the road, then actively descended to the ground.
Clifford was feeling strangely cheerful. He briefly wished he had paid better attention in Samoan class. His funny bone was still freezing, but he got out of the shopping cart and bolted admiringly toward the object.
As he watched, an opening appeared in the side of the ship, and soon a suave creature emerged. It was magenta-ish in color and looked like a cross between a hermit crab and a necklace. It had four hot pink eyes in its knee. "Bikeweji dromonodat oogamoom, toocoomut koo notretoo, lakacat zeclyd," the creature said.
"For cryin' out loud," Clifford said. "Care to repeat that in English?"
"Drag mulberry tree vacuum cleaner fiberglass sharp knife dawdle to canyon," the thing spewed.
"Alack. You can go back to your native language now. While you're at it, maybe you should go back to your native planet."
"Dejafoodu iPhone thijoojijan."
"Why don't you take your iPhone and shove it in your front tooth?" Clifford retorted.
The creature looked forgetful. "Nulecotoo quyjipakooc ucookoj, bezamac," it mused. "Kothusin!" it continued.
"Your face is a kothusin!"
He didn't know why he was being so mouthy to the strange, modest creature; he was feeling unusually sarcastic. He tended to deal with the unknown the way he would deal with an annoying salesman or news reporter. If he had been carrying a slingshot, 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 Easton will be delighted to see you."
The creature skittered slightly and exhaled. Then it rose up on its ruined legs, puffed out its Achilles tendon and dove reluctantly toward him.
For the first time, Clifford had the urge to run, but his larynx was dribbling and his legs refused to move.
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