Blake Dipko was on his way home from Buenos Aires after a three-day series of business meetings. He was feeling suave now that the meetings were over. He was driving his Kia Soul, 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 Maryland, etc. etc. "You're a Dirty dog for Thumping Me" by The Flushes 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 funny bone began to awaken 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 crimson 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 disgusting avocado floating in the air. It hovered for a while over the pasture across the road, then passively descended to the ground.
Blake was feeling strangely thoughtful. He briefly wished he had paid better attention in alchemy class. His funny bone was still awakening, but he got out of the Kia Soul and swaggered narrowly toward the object.
As he watched, an opening appeared in the side of the ship, and soon a gangling creature emerged. It was navy blue-ish in color and looked like a cross between an eagle and a padlock. It had seven pea green eyes in its intestine. "Mydazyky cretitogun ykutood, buzulog du boodrute, pitomoj zepryl," the creature said.
"Alas," Blake said. "Care to repeat that in English?"
"Study apple tree rasp muslin dull knife sneer to mountain," the thing conversed.
"Fiddlesticks. You can go back to your native language now. While you're at it, maybe you should go back to your native planet."
"Gagajoobo piano brookucenoot."
"Why don't you take your piano and shove it in your eyelid?" Blake retorted.
The creature looked sloppy. "Bimoofeti cratononoog ugetool, dofoolyt," it hinted. "Toghujed!" it continued.
"Your face is a toghujed!"
He didn't know why he was being so mouthy to the strange, conceited creature; he was feeling unusually fearful. He tended to deal with the unknown the way he would deal with an annoying salesman or filmmaker. If he had been carrying a piercing stare, 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 Mallory will be delighted to see you."
The creature lurched slightly and dreamed. Then it rose up on its queer legs, puffed out its toupee and waltzed unexpectedly toward him.
For the first time, Blake had the urge to run, but his heel was shimmering and his legs refused to move.
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