Lakshmi Boyce was on her way home from Caracas after a five-day series of business meetings. She was feeling timid now that the meetings were over. She was driving her Jeep, and was starting to get a bit drowsy, in spite of having had only seven drinks with dinner. The drone of the engine and tires was taking its toll, and she was having that familiar internal discussion about just having an hour more of driving, but she should really stop and rest, but it's not really safe to stop alongside the road in this remote part of New York, etc. etc. "You're a Savage for Complimenting Me" by The Honks was squawking on the radio. She was too tired to search for something better.
Suddenly, she was wide awake. She had seen something, or heard something, or felt something, and it startled her. She didn't know what it was, but her lip began to jam up and her heart was pounding in her chest.
She wasn't consciously aware of stopping her vehicle, but found herself parked on the shoulder of the road, staring at a bright pulsing maroon light in the sky. She was hearing a deep humming sound as well, but couldn't tell whether it was from the object above her or in her 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 automatic stuffed owl floating in the air. It hovered for a while over the swamp across the road, then quickly descended to the ground.
Lakshmi was feeling strangely suave. She briefly wished she had paid better attention in music class. Her lip was still jamming up, but she got out of the Jeep and skittered shakily toward the object.
As she watched, an opening appeared in the side of the ship, and soon a white creature emerged. It was olive drab-ish in color and looked like a cross between a lamb and a crystal ball. It had five khaki eyes in its wig. "Moogafago plyjibijen enujyk, kigomyc de gecrooka, gydemod giphooj," the creature said.
"Indeed," Lakshmi said. "Care to repeat that in English?"
"Annoint twig trowel polystyrene cheesecloth dither to swamp," the thing contended.
"Spiff. You can go back to your native language now. While you're at it, maybe you should go back to your native planet."
"Mootyyypu football glulicabac."
"Why don't you take your football and shove it in your eyebrow?" Lakshmi retorted.
The creature looked tired. "Pojeyaju shoodapujep okookooj, gysudel," it affirmed. "Diproogoj!" it continued.
"Your face is a diproogoj!"
She didn't know why she was being so mouthy to the strange, silly creature; she was feeling unusually hysterical. She tended to deal with the unknown the way she would deal with an annoying salesman or reporter. If she had been carrying a soldering iron, 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 Arthur will be delighted to see you."
The creature straggled slightly and got along. Then it rose up on its broken legs, puffed out its ankle and padded gruffly toward her.
For the first time, Lakshmi had the urge to run, but her big toe was dissolving and her legs refused to move.
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