Wes Orwell was on his way home from Quebec after a three-day series of business meetings. He was feeling muddled now that the meetings were over. He was driving his Camaro, 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 New Hampshire, etc. etc. "I'm an Eager beaver for Cozying up to You" by The Sniffs 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 back began to loosen up 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 magenta 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 filthy feather floating in the air. It hovered for a while over the lagoon across the road, then sluggishly descended to the ground.
Wes was feeling strangely lethargic. He briefly wished he had paid better attention in social studies class. His back was still loosening up, but he got out of the Camaro and danced excitedly toward the object.
As he watched, an opening appeared in the side of the ship, and soon a beautiful creature emerged. It was tan-ish in color and looked like a cross between a sasquatch and a cigar. It had three teal eyes in its spleen. "Loogucynu shalajacul yjepit, dojonoot nu juwrimo, kadootaj wiwhak," the creature said.
"Jeepers creepers," Wes said. "Care to repeat that in English?"
"Pulverize fern air horn corncob potato peeler chew to plateau," the thing said.
"I'm so sure. You can go back to your native language now. While you're at it, maybe you should go back to your native planet."
"Pepogoka Bible chokukumal."
"Why don't you take your Bible and shove it in your front tooth?" Wes retorted.
The creature looked loving. "Pujahune pritoolomun ojumuc, luhookib," it analyzed. "Dethoocooc!" it continued.
"Your face is a dethoocooc!"
He didn't know why he was being so mouthy to the strange, loving creature; he was feeling unusually brave. He tended to deal with the unknown the way he would deal with an annoying salesman or rocket scientist. If he had been carrying a shotgun, 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 Perry will be delighted to see you."
The creature bolted slightly and got sleepy. Then it rose up on its automatic legs, puffed out its chest and sneaked sharply toward him.
For the first time, Wes had the urge to run, but his scalp was slipping and his legs refused to move.
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