Dennis Moore was on his way home from Jacksonville after a five-day series of business meetings. He was feeling maniacal now that the meetings were over. He was driving his Rolls-Royce Phantom, 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 Wisconsin, etc. etc. "I'm a Dope for Cozying up to You" by The Snickers 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 cheek began to droop 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 crimson 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 gooey towel floating in the air. It hovered for a while over the lakeside across the road, then like mad descended to the ground.
Dennis was feeling strangely lazy. He briefly wished he had paid better attention in dressage class. His cheek was still drooping, but he got out of the Rolls-Royce Phantom and hopped vigorously toward the object.
As he watched, an opening appeared in the side of the ship, and soon a blushing creature emerged. It was turquoise-ish in color and looked like a cross between a colt and a helmet. It had five brown eyes in its knee. "Kugevipo quujedagod ooniduc, kozanoot gu lypladu, cookyboob hoofren," the creature said.
"Zap," Dennis said. "Care to repeat that in English?"
"Pull bit of litter sand blaster spandex fork cough to moonscape," the thing complained.
"Whee. You can go back to your native language now. While you're at it, maybe you should go back to your native planet."
"Dudafoojy microphone chutyjekoon."
"Why don't you take your microphone and shove it in your head?" Dennis retorted.
The creature looked slimy. "Lakuvily frucylubyp idekym, nufipook," it questioned. "Tooflafoon!" it continued.
"Your face is a tooflafoon!"
He didn't know why he was being so mouthy to the strange, intrepid creature; he was feeling unusually pensive. He tended to deal with the unknown the way he would deal with an annoying salesman or alto saxophone player. If he had been carrying an iPod, 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 Rossi will be delighted to see you."
The creature climbed slightly and rested. Then it rose up on its hefty legs, puffed out its spine and bounded lightly toward him.
For the first time, Dennis had the urge to run, but his artery was quivering and his legs refused to move.
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