Dusty Stucky was on his way home from Budapest after a three-day series of business meetings. He was feeling brash now that the meetings were over. He was driving his pickup, and was starting to get a bit drowsy, in spite of having had only ten 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 Washington, etc. etc. "I'm an Eager beaver for Misleading You" by The Pound of the chests 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 appendix began to expand 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 chartreuse 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 art deco pencil sharpener floating in the air. It hovered for a while over the meadow across the road, then briskly descended to the ground.
Dusty was feeling strangely queer. He briefly wished he had paid better attention in songwriting class. His appendix was still expanding, but he got out of the pickup and lumbered cleverly toward the object.
As he watched, an opening appeared in the side of the ship, and soon a bearded creature emerged. It was purple-ish in color and looked like a cross between a porcupine and a stuffed kitten. It had two lavender eyes in its chest. "Malovoby chamecigun otikyt, cifogol ne tooghono, nooninun hebryn," the creature said.
"Shoot," Dusty said. "Care to repeat that in English?"
"Shellac egg shell straightedge cast iron electric mixer vegetate to marsh," the thing decided.
"Roger. You can go back to your native language now. While you're at it, maybe you should go back to your native planet."
"Netuyudoo ticket franabytij."
"Why don't you take your ticket and shove it in your shoulder?" Dusty retorted.
The creature looked obnoxious. "Magoocaji phooboojipit ocypoob, jewetyc," it prattled. "Lobroyed!" it continued.
"Your face is a lobroyed!"
He didn't know why he was being so mouthy to the strange, garrulous creature; he was feeling unusually self-confident. He tended to deal with the unknown the way he would deal with an annoying salesman or entrepeneur. If he had been carrying a pillow, 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 Barducci will be delighted to see you."
The creature bounced slightly and seethed. Then it rose up on its gooey legs, puffed out its shin and padded suavely toward him.
For the first time, Dusty had the urge to run, but his pinky was wobbling and his legs refused to move.
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