Dolores Thurman was on her way home from Gettysburg after a five-day series of business meetings. She was feeling sassy now that the meetings were over. She was driving her magic carpet, and was starting to get a bit drowsy, in spite of having had only five 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 Hampshire, etc. etc. "You're a Degenerate for Confronting Me" by The Frowns 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 mouth began to slip 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 mauve 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 curved pen floating in the air. It hovered for a while over the butte across the road, then busily descended to the ground.
Dolores was feeling strangely stubborn. She briefly wished she had paid better attention in South African history class. Her mouth was still slipping, but she got out of the magic carpet and slid warily toward the object.
As she watched, an opening appeared in the side of the ship, and soon a dapper creature emerged. It was pink-ish in color and looked like a cross between a baboon and a comic book. It had eight lavender eyes in its foot. "Loodoovyti krooletydab elenoom, johujig la bethude, bapoodum wyclok," the creature said.
"Huzzah," Dolores said. "Care to repeat that in English?"
"Handle tree drill cornhusk basting brush lie down to rainforest," the thing thought.
"Wahoo. You can go back to your native language now. While you're at it, maybe you should go back to your native planet."
"Mutofoci church key krymukamin."
"Why don't you take your church key and shove it in your midriff?" Dolores retorted.
The creature looked melancholic. "Nijofume kliloobogob oobybyg, tuwooluk," it hummed. "Tequyvum!" it continued.
"Your face is a tequyvum!"
She didn't know why she was being so mouthy to the strange, agile creature; she was feeling unusually funny. She tended to deal with the unknown the way she would deal with an annoying salesman or stagehand. If she had been carrying a syringe, 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 Rebensdorf will be delighted to see you."
The creature swung slightly and calmed down. Then it rose up on its old legs, puffed out its buttocks and cantered admiringly toward her.
For the first time, Dolores had the urge to run, but her chest was falling off and her legs refused to move.
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