Charlie Phillips was on his way home from Rochester after a three-day series of business meetings. He was feeling forgetful now that the meetings were over. He was driving his taxi, and was starting to get a bit drowsy, in spite of having had only twelve 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 Kansas, etc. etc. "I'm a Quacker for Overlooking You" by The Belches 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 thorax began to dissolve 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 pea green 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 odd can of sardines floating in the air. It hovered for a while over the neighborhood across the road, then briskly descended to the ground.
Charlie was feeling strangely exuberant. He briefly wished he had paid better attention in Egyptology class. His thorax was still dissolving, but he got out of the taxi and scooted suavely toward the object.
As he watched, an opening appeared in the side of the ship, and soon a flabby creature emerged. It was yellow-ish in color and looked like a cross between a wallaby and a towel. It had seven lime-green eyes in its tongue. "Micasima trybugoolig ucegyn, kivoobim go nooquoco, gykumep hoofleg," the creature said.
"Maybe," Charlie said. "Care to repeat that in English?"
"Stitch feather broadaxe fur cookie cutter bark to gulch," the thing pointed out.
"Jeepers creepers. You can go back to your native language now. While you're at it, maybe you should go back to your native planet."
"Popevyky banana grimagodag."
"Why don't you take your banana and shove it in your toenail?" Charlie retorted.
The creature looked desperate. "Loodoogynoo wredojupyn ojimup, kigegooc," it enunciated. "Dafruryd!" it continued.
"Your face is a dafruryd!"
He didn't know why he was being so mouthy to the strange, anemic creature; he was feeling unusually fearless. He tended to deal with the unknown the way he would deal with an annoying salesman or scout. If he had been carrying a carbine, 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 Wolf will be delighted to see you."
The creature stormed slightly and barfed. Then it rose up on its handy legs, puffed out its femur and inched resignedly toward him.
For the first time, Charlie had the urge to run, but his belly was oscillating and his legs refused to move.
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