Ira Weber was on his way home from Denver after a four-day series of business meetings. He was feeling humble now that the meetings were over. He was driving his Camaro, 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 California, etc. etc. "I'm a Snowflake for Bonding with You" by The Smiles 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 spinal cord began to curl 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 maroon 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 flaky grease gun floating in the air. It hovered for a while over the country meadow across the road, then chop-chop descended to the ground.
Ira was feeling strangely exuberant. He briefly wished he had paid better attention in ABCs class. His spinal cord was still curling, but he got out of the Camaro and paraded clumsily toward the object.
As he watched, an opening appeared in the side of the ship, and soon an emaciated creature emerged. It was orange-ish in color and looked like a cross between a donkey and a hubcap. It had five mauve eyes in its pituitary gland. "Lejoozuna trulebicyt umicak, lyzemook mo kiphaku, nijoocul hatrod," the creature said.
"Doubtful," Ira said. "Care to repeat that in English?"
"Maintain bit of litter shovel granite meat thermometer chew to crime scene," the thing reminded.
"Drat. You can go back to your native language now. While you're at it, maybe you should go back to your native planet."
"Memivijo fork klecajooguk."
"Why don't you take your fork and shove it in your funny bone?" Ira retorted.
The creature looked obnoxious. "Cocyhame kretoopomin ipojum, dogatoom," it wailed. "Booplucug!" it continued.
"Your face is a booplucug!"
He didn't know why he was being so mouthy to the strange, proud creature; he was feeling unusually distressed. He tended to deal with the unknown the way he would deal with an annoying salesman or computer programmer. 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 Blanco will be delighted to see you."
The creature climbed slightly and mumbled. Then it rose up on its shiny legs, puffed out its spine and lumbered truculently toward him.
For the first time, Ira had the urge to run, but his little finger was getting emotional and his legs refused to move.
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