Jordan Higgenbottom was on his way home from Mexico City after a five-day series of business meetings. He was feeling peculiar now that the meetings were over. He was driving his Lexus, and was starting to get a bit drowsy, in spite of having had only eight 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 Connecticut, etc. etc. "I'm a Stinker for Thumping You" by The Gurgles 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 appendix began to unwind 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 salmon 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 brightly-colored thumb drive floating in the air. It hovered for a while over the landfill across the road, then briskly descended to the ground.
Jordan was feeling strangely exuberant. He briefly wished he had paid better attention in math class. His appendix was still unwinding, but he got out of the Lexus and waded languidly toward the object.
As he watched, an opening appeared in the side of the ship, and soon a wizened creature emerged. It was camouflage-ish in color and looked like a cross between a donkey and a Lego set. It had four maroon eyes in its lung. "Tyjigyku cribylygik ilapim, basymig me bequuno, loopunuk zaglaj," the creature said.
"Ahh," Jordan said. "Care to repeat that in English?"
"Vacuum sea shell laser beam reed ice pick get dizzy to path," the thing blathered.
"Ugh. You can go back to your native language now. While you're at it, maybe you should go back to your native planet."
"Tumavona yardstick grucinegut."
"Why don't you take your yardstick and shove it in your hand?" Jordan retorted.
The creature looked sensible. "Dadahogo ghykejutyk ekegyl, noovynyl," it nattered. "Leghoroot!" it continued.
"Your face is a leghoroot!"
He didn't know why he was being so mouthy to the strange, dumb creature; he was feeling unusually tipsy. He tended to deal with the unknown the way he would deal with an annoying salesman or song writer. If he had been carrying a sling, 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 Falcon will be delighted to see you."
The creature rolled slightly and came along. Then it rose up on its delicate legs, puffed out its little finger and flew recklessly toward him.
For the first time, Jordan had the urge to run, but his toupee was freezing and his legs refused to move.
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