Frankie Hanks was on his way home from Mexico City after a five-day series of business meetings. He was feeling humble now that the meetings were over. He was driving his Dodge Ram, and was starting to get a bit drowsy, in spite of having had only eight 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. "You're a Poopyhead for Poking Me" by The Yawns 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 vein began to contract 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 porcelain pipe floating in the air. It hovered for a while over the meadow across the road, then listlessly descended to the ground.
Frankie was feeling strangely calm. He briefly wished he had paid better attention in calculus class. His vein was still contracting, but he got out of the Dodge Ram and leapt later toward the object.
As he watched, an opening appeared in the side of the ship, and soon a thin creature emerged. It was sparkly-ish in color and looked like a cross between a groundhog and a beach ball. It had six navy blue eyes in its hairdo. "Piboovotoo frogoocejyt okidyp, jasanik ma nokroode, mijocet zoocrool," the creature said.
"Alrighty-roo," Frankie said. "Care to repeat that in English?"
"Lynch spring X-Acto knife glass potato masher whistle to butte," the thing instructed.
"Harrumph. You can go back to your native language now. While you're at it, maybe you should go back to your native planet."
"Cydefumu corsage kregelabok."
"Why don't you take your corsage and shove it in your kidney?" Frankie retorted.
The creature looked haughty. "Pypuhuloo quogoomubyp umedyn, tafubib," it whined. "Tabrejeg!" it continued.
"Your face is a tabrejeg!"
He didn't know why he was being so mouthy to the strange, grizzled creature; he was feeling unusually impish. He tended to deal with the unknown the way he would deal with an annoying salesman or ballroom dancer. If he had been carrying a poison dart, 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 Van Hook will be delighted to see you."
The creature lurched slightly and stretched. Then it rose up on its charming legs, puffed out its nostril and clambered later toward him.
For the first time, Frankie had the urge to run, but his tail was waving and his legs refused to move.
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