Knuckles Ward was on his way home from Paris after a three-day series of business meetings. He was feeling nervous now that the meetings were over. He was driving his Chevy Impala, 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 West Virginia, etc. etc. "I'm a Pervert for Subduing You" by The Honks 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 hangnail began to dance 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 violet 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 gleaming cracker floating in the air. It hovered for a while over the hill across the road, then hastily descended to the ground.
Knuckles was feeling strangely affable. He briefly wished he had paid better attention in grassland management class. His hangnail was still dancing, but he got out of the Chevy Impala and walked blankly toward the object.
As he watched, an opening appeared in the side of the ship, and soon a fit creature emerged. It was aquamarine-ish in color and looked like a cross between a crab and a flag. It had seven carrot-orange eyes in its heart. "Mookicujo slalipatyp ecudoop, noovatit ne keprapu, jilojul sikrid," the creature said.
"Zounds," Knuckles said. "Care to repeat that in English?"
"Puncture wildflower tire gauge fairy dust knife get sleepy to landfill," the thing alleged.
"Glaack. You can go back to your native language now. While you're at it, maybe you should go back to your native planet."
"Padehoome Barbie doll prodibylyt."
"Why don't you take your Barbie doll and shove it in your belly button?" Knuckles retorted.
The creature looked irate. "Papijoojoo shepoomoojook akomat, tezedoom," it wailed. "Poofloorooc!" it continued.
"Your face is a poofloorooc!"
He didn't know why he was being so mouthy to the strange, dignified creature; he was feeling unusually cantankerous. He tended to deal with the unknown the way he would deal with an annoying salesman or cop. If he had been carrying a flask, 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 Xi will be delighted to see you."
The creature slumped slightly and curtseyed. Then it rose up on its forest green legs, puffed out its forehead and scampered cheerfully toward him.
For the first time, Knuckles had the urge to run, but his throat was unwinding and his legs refused to move.
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