Royce Bowers was on his way home from Long Beach after a three-day series of business meetings. He was feeling peculiar now that the meetings were over. He was driving his bobsled, and was starting to get a bit drowsy, in spite of having had only eleven 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 Delaware, etc. etc. "I'm a Hack for Stepping on You" by The Blushes 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 foot began to aggravate 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 aquamarine 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 hand-painted thumb drive floating in the air. It hovered for a while over the badlands area across the road, then at a creep descended to the ground.
Royce was feeling strangely decisive. He briefly wished he had paid better attention in environmental science class. His foot was still aggravating, but he got out of the bobsled and darted stealthily toward the object.
As he watched, an opening appeared in the side of the ship, and soon a ruddy creature emerged. It was mauve-ish in color and looked like a cross between a muskrat and a model airplane. It had three burgundy eyes in its ankle. "Jycowine shugekejyk omejen, cygojut noo dadroopi, dokegyj gupheg," the creature said.
"Gadzooks and crapadoodle," Royce said. "Care to repeat that in English?"
"Pull tree feather duster Bakelite pair of chopsticks jerk to countryside," the thing quavered.
"Ulp. You can go back to your native language now. While you're at it, maybe you should go back to your native planet."
"Gibaramo rose quylaloogel."
"Why don't you take your rose and shove it in your little toe?" Royce retorted.
The creature looked frightened. "Cegugeli wromygoonap ubigaj, bevoomin," it declaimed. "Logryjim!" it continued.
"Your face is a logryjim!"
He didn't know why he was being so mouthy to the strange, hirsute creature; he was feeling unusually crafty. He tended to deal with the unknown the way he would deal with an annoying salesman or matador. If he had been carrying an accordion, 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 Whitney will be delighted to see you."
The creature slid slightly and peeped. Then it rose up on its ridged legs, puffed out its mouth and lurched unexpectedly toward him.
For the first time, Royce had the urge to run, but his tongue was bunching up and his legs refused to move.
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