Larry Şerban was on his way home from Miami after a five-day series of business meetings. He was feeling desperate now that the meetings were over. He was driving his police car, 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 'noying for Replacing Me" by The Cringes 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 lung began to decay 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 chartreuse 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 stuffed cell phone floating in the air. It hovered for a while over the beach across the road, then steadily descended to the ground.
Larry was feeling strangely woozy. He briefly wished he had paid better attention in calculus class. His lung was still decaying, but he got out of the police car and galumphed threateningly toward the object.
As he watched, an opening appeared in the side of the ship, and soon a graceful creature emerged. It was emerald green-ish in color and looked like a cross between a colt and a hand puppet. It had four periwinkle eyes in its thumb. "Dejoowunu plebejytoom enudak, dejadoon ly cedrapu, jojoopac joocrid," the creature said.
"Not so fast," Larry said. "Care to repeat that in English?"
"Rock bit of litter hex key corncob food processor get upset to cornfield," the thing snorted.
"Rats. You can go back to your native language now. While you're at it, maybe you should go back to your native planet."
"Kujarula spool of thread fricyjidoj."
"Why don't you take your spool of thread and shove it in your femur?" Larry retorted.
The creature looked idiotic. "Muguyegy shinakaboon ylucook, jefoocak," it inquired. "Mefriwel!" it continued.
"Your face is a mefriwel!"
He didn't know why he was being so mouthy to the strange, desperate creature; he was feeling unusually suave. He tended to deal with the unknown the way he would deal with an annoying salesman or artist. If he had been carrying a blank stare, 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 Saint Pierre will be delighted to see you."
The creature swung slightly and glowered. Then it rose up on its aromatic legs, puffed out its midriff and tore mysteriously toward him.
For the first time, Larry had the urge to run, but his Adam's apple was turning yellow and his legs refused to move.
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