Bobby Joe sulked in his room. His room overlooked the edge of the corn field with the crashed ship. The metallic skin of the craft glowed orange, then red, then purple in the setting sun. He sat in his windowsill and stared at the ship. He tried taking pictures, but doubted they would show up well, even with the flash.

Within minutes after the sun had set. He saw the first signs of movement from the fallen object. Doors on either side of the ship opened, much like a couple of car doors. Two lanky, humanoid beings stepped out, and stretched. They looked like a vacationing couple taking a break at the next rest stop.

The lights from the house did not illuminate the corn field, but the craft's overhead light was enough for Bobby Joe to see some of the aliens' features. They looked and dressed like a couple of rich, spoiled, college kids. The only thing alienish about them were their thin limbs and bald heads.

One of the aliens walked around the ship to the other side. The two discussed something, then walked away from the wreck and away from the farmhouse. They paused. Then, one of the aliens scuffled back towards the ship. It opened a door, leaned in for a moment, came back out, shut the door, and caught back up to the other alien. The two of the aliens walked away from the ship in a somewhat westward direction.

With the aliens gone and under the cover of night, Bobby Joe swore he would get a closer look at that craft. He waited for his parents and sister to fall asleep.

Waiting for everyone to fall sleep was like waiting for the corn to grow. The grandfather clock downstairs struck eleven and the family had settled into their beds.

Bobby Joe quietly slid the window open, and snuck down the drain pipe (the same stealthy means of escape for midnight make-out sessions with Ema Jean). Only once had he been caught sneaking out at night, and Pa yelled at his boy for being stupid enough to climb the old drainpipe. On the other hand, Pa wasn't observant enough to realize Bobby Joe reinforced it with braces that could be used like rungs of a ladder.

Bobby Joe crept through the shadows of the farm house and out to the corn field. Standing among the adolescent crops, he was highly visible under the glow of the rising moon. His Pa was in a foul mood since the phone call. Bobby Joe would be whupped into next week if he was caught doing what he was doing.

The aliens, or at least the alien who returned to the ship, forgot to lock the door. The door opened easily without squeaking hinges or the whoosh of a vacuum seal. He was a little disappointed by the plainness. Not even an activated alarm, warning of his proximity to the vehicle.

The door may not have been too shocking, but the craft's interior took him by surprise. The interior had that "new-car" feel and smell to it. Bucket seats of polished leather. Pristine, carpet floor mats. Seat belts. Even the new spacecraft scent perfumed the air.

Bobby Joe slid in behind the wheel. Despite the second gearshift, the vehicle had the look and feel of a sports car. The bucket seats were comfortable. The windshield was transparent from the inside. From the outside, it was the same metallic sheen of the rest of the body.

He snooped around the rest of the vehicle for any sign of extra-terrestrial detail. A few discarded wrappers from the Spuckey's fast-food chain littered the backseat floors. He'd never heard of Spuckey's, but the wrappers didn't seem unusual or unearthly. A couple of florescent dice beneath the rear view mirror orbited each other by no means of support.

"Whoa! Look at the cup holders!" Bobby Joe said aloud, admiring the 50oz drink holders.

"This don't look like no space ship. Maybe there's somethin' cool in the glove box."

He pulled the latch to the glove box. Papers and a paperback book slid out of the compartment onto the floorboard. Bobby Joe flipped through the sheets of paper. One looked official, like it was a transfer of title. Another was similar to the insurance card Pa had for his truck. Both documents were made out to one "Kraun Splog". He set the papers in the compartment, and picked up the book. Flipping through the book, he realized it was the owner's manual for the vehicle.

A grin spread across his face, much like a mad scientist with a new toy of destruction. He swatted the hovering dice spinning them in a wild and wobbly orbit. He left the craft, shut the door quietly behind him and crept back to the house.

Up in his room, Bobby Joe sat at his desk and read through the owner's manual. You would think an owner's manual of an alien vehicle would be difficult for Earthling's to read without an advanced degree in linguistics. Three of the five languages in the manual were non-Earth languages, the other two, remarkably, were Japanese and English.

"Congratulations on the purchase of your new Lem'Ela Nyolar," the manual read, "At Lem'Ela, we pride ourselves in constructing the best, most reliable cruisers on the market. At Lem'Ela, we hope you find coasting between heavenly bodies comfortable and affordable. With our patented Extended Travel Biostasis (ETB) and Polymatrix Guidance System (PGS), interstellar travel is effortless…"

The manual rambled on for pages about the additional features available for the Nyolar series of interstellar cruisers. Bobby Joe was more interested in the pages that followed. The remainder of the manual, including the appendices and glossary, contained detailed designs for operating and maintaining the Lem'Ela Nyolar. Bobby Joe read and reread the manual until the demands of sleep pulled his eyelids shut.