Jacques Jordan was on his way home from Tulsa after a two-day series of business meetings. He was feeling angry now that the meetings were over. He was driving his scooter, and was starting to get a bit drowsy, in spite of having had only two 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 Iowa, etc. etc. "I'm a Snake for Banishing You" by The Bows 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 vein began to quake 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 azure 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 art deco billfold floating in the air. It hovered for a while over the savanna across the road, then screamingly descended to the ground.
Jacques was feeling strangely irate. He briefly wished he had paid better attention in science class. His vein was still quaking, but he got out of the scooter and clambered truculently toward the object.
As he watched, an opening appeared in the side of the ship, and soon a frizzle-headed creature emerged. It was black-ish in color and looked like a cross between a jellyfish and a cupcake. It had seven sea green eyes in its femur. "Lamojuny slapijoobyd oojykol, lajinal ba jigrupo, dumimek rywhem," the creature said.
"Mother of peanut butter," Jacques said. "Care to repeat that in English?"
"Soften piece of bark wire cutter paper clip potato masher pant to tundra," the thing affirmed.
"Eww. You can go back to your native language now. While you're at it, maybe you should go back to your native planet."
"Doolivemu flute crupymupij."
"Why don't you take your flute and shove it in your midriff?" Jacques retorted.
The creature looked ambitious. "Bonayipy brykopenoot ynemoom, kuwycoon," it spouted. "Bychagoon!" it continued.
"Your face is a bychagoon!"
He didn't know why he was being so mouthy to the strange, bilious creature; he was feeling unusually self-assured. He tended to deal with the unknown the way he would deal with an annoying salesman or actor. If he had been carrying a disarming smile, 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 Cantada will be delighted to see you."
The creature barrelled slightly and jumped. Then it rose up on its ordinary legs, puffed out its larynx and waltzed woefully toward him.
For the first time, Jacques had the urge to run, but his front tooth was burning and his legs refused to move.
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