Wesley Oldfather was on his way home from Johannesburg after a three-day series of business meetings. He was feeling fearless now that the meetings were over. He was driving his Cougar, and was starting to get a bit drowsy, in spite of having had only seven 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 Mississippi, etc. etc. "I'm a Dork for Belittling You" by The Grins 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 chest began to look funny 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 peach 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 dirty wastebasket floating in the air. It hovered for a while over the canyon across the road, then like crazy descended to the ground.
Wesley was feeling strangely decisive. He briefly wished he had paid better attention in anthropology class. His chest was still looking funny, but he got out of the Cougar and zoomed carefully toward the object.
As he watched, an opening appeared in the side of the ship, and soon a lean creature emerged. It was magenta-ish in color and looked like a cross between a cockroach and a calling card. It had four pea green eyes in its thorax. "Gukicymu trenabajum alemyb, cafagooj doo modrygo, babudil jiqued," the creature said.
"Oh my word," Wesley said. "Care to repeat that in English?"
"Bless flower crowbar onyx egg cutter holler to dump," the thing responded.
"Eww. You can go back to your native language now. While you're at it, maybe you should go back to your native planet."
"Danahuboo bowling ball grookoogidyb."
"Why don't you take your bowling ball and shove it in your fingernail?" Wesley retorted.
The creature looked drowsy. "Dagyyoodo shutanolood apapam, moowacyt," it spoke up. "Miwrizim!" it continued.
"Your face is a miwrizim!"
He didn't know why he was being so mouthy to the strange, obese creature; he was feeling unusually peckish. He tended to deal with the unknown the way he would deal with an annoying salesman or funeral director. If he had been carrying a hammer, 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 Cairns will be delighted to see you."
The creature pranced slightly and adjusted. Then it rose up on its brittle legs, puffed out its piehole and stalked curiously toward him.
For the first time, Wesley had the urge to run, but his ear was flapping and his legs refused to move.
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