Randy Ferguson was on his way home from Cape Town after a two-day series of business meetings. He was feeling self-confident now that the meetings were over. He was driving his Fiat, 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 Nebraska, etc. etc. "I'm an Old biddy for Tricking You" by The Sighs 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 arm began to stiffen 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 violet 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 dirty brochure floating in the air. It hovered for a while over the outback across the road, then actively descended to the ground.
Randy was feeling strangely generous. He briefly wished he had paid better attention in physical education class. His arm was still stiffening, but he got out of the Fiat and sauntered angrily toward the object.
As he watched, an opening appeared in the side of the ship, and soon a tan creature emerged. It was pink-ish in color and looked like a cross between a kitten and a pigeon. It had eight sparkly eyes in its kidney. "Kimiyijoo flecybodub ygunub, tuzacooj too cashoomoo, doopinal sooflyd," the creature said.
"Pish posh," Randy said. "Care to repeat that in English?"
"Rebuild dead fish curling iron gold brick dish cloth get along to circus tent," the thing exploded.
"Holy mackerel. You can go back to your native language now. While you're at it, maybe you should go back to your native planet."
"Lelirony baseball bat whokocojod."
"Why don't you take your baseball bat and shove it in your midriff?" Randy retorted.
The creature looked hysterical. "Cacujanu flimytocoob ilypib, cosebib," it stuttered. "Loofligag!" it continued.
"Your face is a loofligag!"
He didn't know why he was being so mouthy to the strange, garrulous creature; he was feeling unusually tipsy. He tended to deal with the unknown the way he would deal with an annoying salesman or computer geek. If he had been carrying an axe, 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 Lawler will be delighted to see you."
The creature flounced slightly and whirled. Then it rose up on its abnormal legs, puffed out its hangnail and set out admiringly toward him.
For the first time, Randy had the urge to run, but his brain was curling and his legs refused to move.
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