Craig Trott was on his way home from Chandler after a five-day series of business meetings. He was feeling woozy now that the meetings were over. He was driving his fire truck, and was starting to get a bit drowsy, in spite of having had only six 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 Indiana, etc. etc. "You're a Dummy for Sneering at Me" by The Flutters 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 hoof began to crawl 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 violet 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 nifty doll floating in the air. It hovered for a while over the cave across the road, then rapidly descended to the ground.
Craig was feeling strangely relaxed. He briefly wished he had paid better attention in recreation class. His hoof was still crawling, but he got out of the fire truck and paraded gingerly toward the object.
As he watched, an opening appeared in the side of the ship, and soon a neat creature emerged. It was green-ish in color and looked like a cross between a snake and a bone. It had six olive green eyes in its funny bone. "Cugoofeny whojogopun ajacud, kygoodib ce bofluga, meputan wiclat," the creature said.
"It's my party and I'll cry if I want to," Craig said. "Care to repeat that in English?"
"Compress seed pod meat grinder yarn cheesecloth buzz to desert," the thing exclaimed.
"Heavens to murgatroyd. You can go back to your native language now. While you're at it, maybe you should go back to your native planet."
"Napoojyce horseshoe chedoocojit."
"Why don't you take your horseshoe and shove it in your arm?" Craig retorted.
The creature looked moronic. "Cynosooge whigudocyt eloonoom, difebood," it scoffed. "Kashisug!" it continued.
"Your face is a kashisug!"
He didn't know why he was being so mouthy to the strange, distressed creature; he was feeling unusually frantic. He tended to deal with the unknown the way he would deal with an annoying salesman or musician. If he had been carrying a shoulder fired rocket, 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 Craven will be delighted to see you."
The creature strode slightly and blew up. Then it rose up on its stuffed legs, puffed out its rib and proceeded shyly toward him.
For the first time, Craig had the urge to run, but his hairdo was gleaming and his legs refused to move.
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