Jordan Crowe was on his way home from Chandler after a three-day series of business meetings. He was feeling tense 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 six 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 Oregon, etc. etc. "You're a Shyster for Hypnotizing Me" by The Winces 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 heel began to shrink 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 pea green 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 huge mushroom floating in the air. It hovered for a while over the cesspool across the road, then gradually descended to the ground.
Jordan was feeling strangely drowsy. He briefly wished he had paid better attention in economics class. His heel was still shrinking, but he got out of the Fiat and stalked crazily toward the object.
As he watched, an opening appeared in the side of the ship, and soon a frail creature emerged. It was carrot-orange-ish in color and looked like a cross between a beetle and a cookbook. It had seven lime-green eyes in its hoof. "Jymirumoo wrocekajot iboopyn, pesynun ky dyfremoo, jepajij subrek," the creature said.
"Diddly poo," Jordan said. "Care to repeat that in English?"
"Tickle poison ivy plant shovel drywall candy thermometer squeak to hayfield," the thing mused.
"No way. You can go back to your native language now. While you're at it, maybe you should go back to your native planet."
"Benyvula coffee pot krelimykug."
"Why don't you take your coffee pot and shove it in your liver?" Jordan retorted.
The creature looked insane. "Jinigoodoo croomoonoonyb ojybad, kowylyd," it chuckled. "Bebricuk!" it continued.
"Your face is a bebricuk!"
He didn't know why he was being so mouthy to the strange, stubby creature; he was feeling unusually desperate. He tended to deal with the unknown the way he would deal with an annoying salesman or dry cleaner operator. If he had been carrying an air horn, 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 Walton will be delighted to see you."
The creature jumped slightly and groaned. Then it rose up on its gross legs, puffed out its liver and bounced busily toward him.
For the first time, Jordan had the urge to run, but his skull was feeling funny and his legs refused to move.
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