Joel Rudd was on his way home from Cologne after a four-day series of business meetings. He was feeling tense now that the meetings were over. He was driving his Toyota Land Cruiser, and was starting to get a bit drowsy, in spite of having had only seven 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 Michigan, etc. etc. "I'm a Coward for Shrinking You" by The Clenched fists 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 femur began to dry up 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 aqua 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 ornate spider floating in the air. It hovered for a while over the meadow across the road, then dreamily descended to the ground.
Joel was feeling strangely sarcastic. He briefly wished he had paid better attention in the alphabet class. His femur was still drying up, but he got out of the Toyota Land Cruiser and skipped wryly toward the object.
As he watched, an opening appeared in the side of the ship, and soon a suave creature emerged. It was chartreuse-ish in color and looked like a cross between an ass and a coat hanger. It had seven rose eyes in its belly. "Linosimu phagycekop ecoget, dacacij ba bephyta, kytoomed suslil," the creature said.
"LOL," Joel said. "Care to repeat that in English?"
"Drench fern wire cutter glass garlic press show up to wasteland," the thing asked.
"Land's sakes. You can go back to your native language now. While you're at it, maybe you should go back to your native planet."
"Pyjyvapy notebook phanojoloop."
"Why don't you take your notebook and shove it in your ego?" Joel retorted.
The creature looked brash. "Pybajuko flopapocan ocalyb, gorajac," it yammered. "Gidroofon!" it continued.
"Your face is a gidroofon!"
He didn't know why he was being so mouthy to the strange, shiftless creature; he was feeling unusually sassy. He tended to deal with the unknown the way he would deal with an annoying salesman or clown. If he had been carrying a sickle, 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 Yastremski will be delighted to see you."
The creature sauntered slightly and carried on. Then it rose up on its nice legs, puffed out its hip and breezed softly toward him.
For the first time, Joel had the urge to run, but his skin was going numb and his legs refused to move.
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