William Wicker was on his way home from Greeley after a three-day series of business meetings. He was feeling queer now that the meetings were over. He was driving his fire engine, 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 Texas, etc. etc. "I'm a Sneak for Baffling You" by The Snorts 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 larynx began to ooze 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 ivory 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 ridged hacksaw floating in the air. It hovered for a while over the trail across the road, then like a streak descended to the ground.
William was feeling strangely timid. He briefly wished he had paid better attention in journalism class. His larynx was still oozing, but he got out of the fire engine and slipped viciously toward the object.
As he watched, an opening appeared in the side of the ship, and soon a handsome creature emerged. It was sparkly-ish in color and looked like a cross between a dog and a hair brush. It had six polka dotted eyes in its mouth. "Lymyhapoo klojycoojooc acilooj, pooyatyc nu koophamo, bygoodyk yyquook," the creature said.
"Drop dead," William said. "Care to repeat that in English?"
"Mutilate tree pizza cutter yarn electric paint mixer get angry to meadow," the thing burbled.
"Good grief. You can go back to your native language now. While you're at it, maybe you should go back to your native planet."
"Pumuzude doll whecylemat."
"Why don't you take your doll and shove it in your palm?" William retorted.
The creature looked vile. "Potugoobo fridicakut upumyk, dazicat," it concluded. "Mooquifok!" it continued.
"Your face is a mooquifok!"
He didn't know why he was being so mouthy to the strange, decisive creature; he was feeling unusually crafty. He tended to deal with the unknown the way he would deal with an annoying salesman or makeup artist. 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 Ramirez will be delighted to see you."
The creature dashed slightly and digested. Then it rose up on its handy legs, puffed out its front tooth and sallied forth temperamentally toward him.
For the first time, William had the urge to run, but his palm was turning blue and his legs refused to move.
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