Clive Nye was on his way home from Orlando after a three-day series of business meetings. He was feeling cunning now that the meetings were over. He was driving his Subaru, 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 Minnesota, etc. etc. "I'm a Peabrain for Soothing You" by The Chortles 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 front tooth began to heave 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 jet black 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 spongy bag of potato chips floating in the air. It hovered for a while over the briar patch across the road, then dreamily descended to the ground.
Clive was feeling strangely cheerful. He briefly wished he had paid better attention in public relations class. His front tooth was still heaving, but he got out of the Subaru and crawled merrily toward the object.
As he watched, an opening appeared in the side of the ship, and soon a plump creature emerged. It was scarlet-ish in color and looked like a cross between a bird and a Band-aid. It had two metallic red eyes in its artery. "Kicoojidu shooloogidok ootymooc, cyrylop pa peklati, bukinoot fefril," the creature said.
"In your dreams," Clive said. "Care to repeat that in English?"
"Seal fern razor blade chocolate electric mixer play Farmer in the Dell to ridge," the thing hinted.
"Ssss. You can go back to your native language now. While you're at it, maybe you should go back to your native planet."
"Jupuwyke painting klabypocyb."
"Why don't you take your painting and shove it in your shoulder?" Clive retorted.
The creature looked cuddly. "Cidasygoo gronatoopik epajyl, buvyjap," it rationalized. "Pooshovim!" it continued.
"Your face is a pooshovim!"
He didn't know why he was being so mouthy to the strange, affable creature; he was feeling unusually dapper. He tended to deal with the unknown the way he would deal with an annoying salesman or flight mechanic. If he had been carrying a bomb, 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 Stoker will be delighted to see you."
The creature scurried slightly and coughed. Then it rose up on its cheap legs, puffed out its bicep and whirled vigorously toward him.
For the first time, Clive had the urge to run, but his foot was closing down and his legs refused to move.
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