Hugh Walla was on his way home from Fort Worth after a two-day series of business meetings. He was feeling selfish now that the meetings were over. He was driving his Ford Pinto, and was starting to get a bit drowsy, in spite of having had only five 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 Alabama, etc. etc. "I'm a Savage for Pulverizing You" by The Growls 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 skin began to rot 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 sea 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 damp lemon floating in the air. It hovered for a while over the tundra across the road, then passively descended to the ground.
Hugh was feeling strangely stubborn. He briefly wished he had paid better attention in Chinese class. His skin was still rotting, but he got out of the Ford Pinto and slunk gratefully toward the object.
As he watched, an opening appeared in the side of the ship, and soon a dapper creature emerged. It was fuchsia-ish in color and looked like a cross between a gila monster and a pair of headphones. It had six turquoise eyes in its horn. "Linigaky cribycoodod emokig, luyinoj noo jighoti, jelulym jewrooc," the creature said.
"Aw," Hugh said. "Care to repeat that in English?"
"Bleach wolf track corkscrew graham cracker whisk snort to badlands area," the thing swore.
"Tubular. You can go back to your native language now. While you're at it, maybe you should go back to your native planet."
"Cykoofiba coat hanger crycolitup."
"Why don't you take your coat hanger and shove it in your dignity?" Hugh retorted.
The creature looked obese. "Cenyzemu plykelinot ybocop, mogajuj," it cackled. "Dofryjyc!" it continued.
"Your face is a dofryjyc!"
He didn't know why he was being so mouthy to the strange, distressed creature; he was feeling unusually petulant. He tended to deal with the unknown the way he would deal with an annoying salesman or hair stylist. If he had been carrying a pom-pom, 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 Marks will be delighted to see you."
The creature ran slightly and whistled. Then it rose up on its imitation legs, puffed out its funny bone and straggled caustically toward him.
For the first time, Hugh had the urge to run, but his midriff was writhing and his legs refused to move.
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