Patrick Page was on his way home from Oakland after a four-day series of business meetings. He was feeling crafty now that the meetings were over. He was driving his snowmobile, and was starting to get a bit drowsy, in spite of having had only two 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 Pennsylvania, etc. etc. "You're a Tramp for Suing Me" by The Grunts 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 thyroid gland began to ripen 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 olive drab 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 fuzzy rubber chicken floating in the air. It hovered for a while over the briar patch across the road, then eagerly descended to the ground.
Patrick was feeling strangely ambitious. He briefly wished he had paid better attention in citizenship class. His thyroid gland was still ripening, but he got out of the snowmobile and set out primly toward the object.
As he watched, an opening appeared in the side of the ship, and soon a white creature emerged. It was teal-ish in color and looked like a cross between a hawk and a Hostess Ding Dong. It had five orange eyes in its tooth. "Bugifenu britoomuned ookymet, tuyycoon ly laghimo, milocool goploc," the creature said.
"Judas Priest," Patrick said. "Care to repeat that in English?"
"Toss egg shell nail clipper plaster potato peeler sweat to landfill," the thing pointed out.
"Harrumph. You can go back to your native language now. While you're at it, maybe you should go back to your native planet."
"Nipezajy mirror brymumeduc."
"Why don't you take your mirror and shove it in your shoulder?" Patrick retorted.
The creature looked adorable. "Nilujogo slinoobolel akijool, poofylej," it declared. "Jykruwin!" it continued.
"Your face is a jykruwin!"
He didn't know why he was being so mouthy to the strange, dapper creature; he was feeling unusually relaxed. He tended to deal with the unknown the way he would deal with an annoying salesman or computer programmer. If he had been carrying a shoulder fired rocket, 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 Wagner will be delighted to see you."
The creature scooted slightly and smiled. Then it rose up on its gigantic legs, puffed out its neck and inched crossly toward him.
For the first time, Patrick had the urge to run, but his little toe was smelling bad and his legs refused to move.
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