Bubba knew there was something peculiar going on when the flying saucer dropped behind the Bowl-a-Rama. He'd been sitting on the front steps of the Eat'n'Run, nursing a bottle of Anchor Steam beer, munching an occasional peanut and enjoying the late night air when the sky overhead lit up and he heard a sound like air escaping from a very large tire.
Everybody else in the little town of Central Garage was over at the VFW hall for the Bean Supper and Dance, except for Bubba and a few other misfits who couldn't get dates, didn't like beans, or hated to dance, so he knew the chances of anybody else seeing the thing land were slim. He threw back the rest of the beer, folded the peanuts carefully in their bag, and wiped his hands on his overalls before getting up and making his way to the Bowl-a-Rama parking lot.
It was a pretty thing, all smooth lines and curves, and it looked like it could go like white on rice when you put your foot in it, but Bubba figured there was only one reason for this thing to be in a bowling alley parking lot at 10:00 PM on a Saturday night: engine trouble.
Hands in plain view, he strolled up to the saucer, rapped sharply on the side, and waited. After a moment, a panel slid back from a viewport, and two faces peered out anxiously. Bubba grinned at them.
"Evenin'. How's Elvis?"
They looked at each other, then disappeared. The panel closed.
Bubba stepped back a bit, figuring they'd be out soon enough. There was still at least another hour left before the dance broke up, and he wasn't one to rush things. Sure enough, a few minutes later a hatch opened and two reasonably human-like figures stepped out onto a platform, one a bit shorter than the other.
The aliens saw a largish human, with a scraggly beard and short salt-and-pepper hair sticking out from under a cap emblazoned with the letters "CASE". Bubba saw two humanoids dressed in smooth, well-fitting jumpsuits with small insignia in the center of what he assumed were their chests. They were fidgeting.
Their primary non-human characteristics seemed to consist of a bifurcated upper lip and a flattish nose with what appeared to be one large nostril. What cranial hair they had appeared to be either fine fur or feathers. Conferring in low voices over something that looked like an small Etch-a-Sketch, their discussion became more and more animated and they threw glances in his direction from time to time. Bubba smiled and nodded, idly jingling the change in his pockets.
Finally, the shorter one nudged the other forward a little with his elbow. The taller one cleared his throat and spoke in a clear, if slightly nervous, voice.
"Sprechen sie Deutsche?"
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