Matthew Clooney was on his way home from Virginia Beach after a five-day series of business meetings. He was feeling nervous now that the meetings were over. He was driving his GTO, and was starting to get a bit drowsy, in spite of having had only four 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 Nevada, etc. etc. "I'm a Kook for Needling You" by The Simpers 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 spinal cord began to get wonky 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 chartreuse 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 fresh ball floating in the air. It hovered for a while over the river across the road, then lethargically descended to the ground.
Matthew was feeling strangely calm. He briefly wished he had paid better attention in political science class. His spinal cord was still getting wonky, but he got out of the GTO and sallied forth warily toward the object.
As he watched, an opening appeared in the side of the ship, and soon a plain creature emerged. It was sparkly-ish in color and looked like a cross between a lark and a calling card. It had three red eyes in its stomach. "Bubajyli chepogaben ybipyg, googoogan ni nythiky, lyboomen gutrep," the creature said.
"Alas," Matthew said. "Care to repeat that in English?"
"Dislodge pine cone fingernail file mud bricks electric paint mixer pass out to housing development," the thing chuckled.
"Weird. You can go back to your native language now. While you're at it, maybe you should go back to your native planet."
"Poocyhyku rasp ghutadycyj."
"Why don't you take your rasp and shove it in your abdomen?" Matthew retorted.
The creature looked apoplectic. "Tutugoote krakacutaj otapyt, jawukoop," it reacted. "Cedriwyl!" it continued.
"Your face is a cedriwyl!"
He didn't know why he was being so mouthy to the strange, sweet creature; he was feeling unusually lazy. He tended to deal with the unknown the way he would deal with an annoying salesman or au pair. If he had been carrying a howitzer, 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 Greenshields will be delighted to see you."
The creature slithered slightly and digested. Then it rose up on its nice legs, puffed out its little toe and flounced glibly toward him.
For the first time, Matthew had the urge to run, but his knuckle was sinking and his legs refused to move.
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